Develyn pulled the sheet up to her chin, but she left the thick comforter folded back at her waist. “Jackson took you to see LaSage Mansion?”
“Isn’t that too wild, or what? He’s got this friend, Peter, whose dad works at the natural gas plant. Peter told Jackson as long he was going to be down this way, he should check out the old mansion.”
“So you got to drive right in?”
“Yes, Peter’s dad drove his rig down there with us. But, get this … the reason he wanted to take me down there after dark was to watch for the ghosts.”
“Really? Two very beautiful ghosts, no doubt.”
“Peter’s dad said a couple of the guys spotted some apparitions at the mansion and …”
“Apparitions? I was hoping we got a better review than that.”
“Well, those two men aren’t talking about it any more.”
“Too embarrassed?”
“Too rich. When they got back the other night, one of the guys in the office heard the story, so on a lark he e-mailed MoonBeam.”
Develyn stared through the darkness at Casey’s bed. “The supermarket tabloid?”
“They offered a thousand dollars to each of the men, plus pictures of the mansion. I guess a reporter is flying out this weekend.”
“But there won’t be any ghosts.”
“They said that’s OK; they’ll use a reenactment.”
“Reenactment?” Develyn laughed. “But who will they get to play us?”
“I was rootin’ for Catherine Zeta-Jones and Meg Ryan.”
“But who will play whom?”
“Very funny!” Casey snapped.
“It is funny. It really might be in the rag sheet?”
“Maybe not front cover, but it will be there.”
“I’ll have to hire someone to buy me one,” Develyn mused. “I know all the cashiers in Crawfordsville, and I’d be too embarrassed to buy one myself.”
Casey burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Indiana is a strange place. You walk up to some supermarket and a lady in a trench coat with a Groucho Marx mustache shoves some money in your hand and says, “Pssst! Hey, buddy, would you buy me a tabloid?”
“You cannot see this in the dark, Casey Cree-Ryder … but I’m sticking out my Indiana schoolteacher tongue at you.”
“Anyway, there were no ghosts, but Peter’s dad said we could wait down there if we wanted to. He went back to the plant. We stayed down by the mansion.”
“Wait a minute, you parked in the dark of LaSage canyon with Jackson Hill?”
“Yes. We talked and talked and talked for over two hours. I think I do communication better in the dark.”
“You talked, huh? Did you see any stars?”
“The moon was so bright, the stars looked dull, you know what I mean?”
“I meant when he kissed you,” Develyn said. “Did you see stars?”
“Stars, bells, whistles, fireworks, flags flying … Dev, it was like the whole dadgum chorus of angels stood up and cheered.”
“Whoa! That’s some serious kissing.”
“Hey, but we didn’t fool around.”
Even in the pitch dark, Develyn felt her face flush. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“But he did …”
“I don’t want to go there …”
“Put his hands on my …”
“Casey, hush. That’s between you, Jackson, and the Lord.”
“Cheeks.”
“He held your cheeks?”
“My face. He put the palm of his hands on my face and just held them there. That was the most peaceful, wonderful feeling.”
“Yes, well … among some native tribes, that means the couple is engaged.”
“I know.”
“I made that up.”
“No, it’s true,” Casey insisted.
“It is?” Develyn gasped.
“No, but I just wanted to prove to myself I could still trick you.”
“Go to sleep.”
“I can’t. Can you take care of Popcorn for a few days?”
“Are you running off to Reno to get married?”
“I don’t think so. Jackson’s sister, Penny, lives in Red Lodge, and he wanted me to go along.”
“Overnight?”
“Over the weekend. But don’t worry, he said she had a spare room for me and everything. I’ll be good, Mama.”
“Don’t you think this is all moving kind of fast?”
“Dev, I’m almost thirty. I’ve never had a man be serious with me yet. Then the only guy I ever had a serious crush on wants to be with me. It can’t move fast enough for me.”
“I’m not your mother, Casey. I do worry about you like you were my daughter, but you are a smart girl. Don’t do dumb things, and you’ll be fine. I just don’t want you to …”
“I know … get my hopes up and then have my heart crushed by Monday.”
“Something like that.”
“You know what I decided? I could be aloof … lose Jackson … and have no great memories. Or I could enjoy every moment … even if it doesn’t work out, at least I’d have my memories. Even lost moments are better than no fun at all.”
“Are you quoting Alfred Lord Tennyson to me? The old ‘It’s better to have loved and lost, than …’”
“No, it’s far, far better to love and win!” Casey interrupted. “I’m not planning on losing this one.”
Develyn rolled on her right side and hugged her pillow.
Casey’s voice was raspy, soft. “When is Delaney coming?”
“Next Wednesday.”
“I’ll stay out in my horse trailer.”
“Casey, you will do nothing of the kind. I bought one of those inflatable mattresses, and we’ll all bunk in here. I need you with me. Having a moderator in the room always makes me think things through before I speak.”
“Thanks, Dev. I look forward to meeting her. I feel like she and I are kinda related. Is she like you?”
“She is nothing like me.”
“In the picture you showed me, she doesn’t look like you.”
“She looks like my brother, Dewayne. What time is Jackson coming by?”
“Eight o’clock. He’s staying with some friends over in Lander.”
“That’s a long drive. He’ll have to get up early to make it here by eight.”
“Yes, but he said he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.”
“I see. I’m really happy for you, Casey.”
“I’m happy for me too. And it’s all because of you, Ms. Worrell.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Well, you came out here this summer … and you showed up at the horse sale … and you made friends with me … and you wanted to stay at the mansion to avoid having to go with Quint … and you wanted to clean up the next day at the hot springs … and invited Renny along … and Jackson saw Renny … then me! And you pushed me to go off with him. If not for your memories of a dirt road town, I would have missed him.”
“It sort of validates my entire summer.”
“It just might validate my entire life.”
* * *
When Develyn heard Casey’s rhythmic breathing, she knew she was asleep.
It’s not about me, is it, Lord? I thought this whole summer thing was about me. I came out here to find myself … to discover what was missing in my life … to ride free in the wind … to explore my childhood.
Me … my … I … on and on it goes.
But this summer is about Casey finding the love of her life. It’s about Delaney needing some space to deal with a personal crisis. It’s about Quint discovering that he will never replace Miss Emily …
it’s about Lily, not being burdened trying to entertain me, and finding herself a nice man … it’s about Renny and Coop and Mrs. Tagley and Uncle Henry. It’s not about me.
And the summer is barely half over.
Maybe that’s what I needed most in this trip. I needed to get my mind off myself. It’s not about me.
Why is that so tough to do?
* * *
Develyn dumped hay over the fence into the pasture where Popcorn and My Maria grazed. She watched as Cooper Tallon rode up on his buckskin gelding.
“Good morning, Mr. Tallon. Are you coming in or heading out?”
“I’m riding up into the Cedar Hills to take some digital photos. I want to pick out the best place to build my log home.”
“That sounds fun.”
“I’d invite you along, but you said you were goin’ to Douglas.”
“Thank you very much anyway. When you pick a site, let’s ride out and look at it.”
“I’d enjoy having a woman’s opinion.” He tipped his black felt cowboy hat at her. “Have a great day, Miss Dev.”
“You too Coop.”
He rode north across the prairie.
Lord, I feel like I barely know Cooper. There seems to be a whole lot about him that he keeps to himself. I don’t even know how old he is. Maybe he’s sixty. But I do know he’s strong and healthy and has a thirty-five-inch waist and thirty-six-inch inseam.
* * *
The store in Mrs. Tagley’s living room smelled like cookies and bacon, a warm, nostalgic aroma that made Develyn feel ten years old. She plodded behind the counter and opened the chest freezer, then pulled out an orange Popsicle.
“It’s just me … Devy-girl … Mrs. Tagley. I know I’m early today, but I wanted something cold to suck on. I’ll leave your money on the counter.”
“Honey, come back here a minute.”
Develyn plodded to the back room where Mrs. Tagley was on her hands and knees next to the sofa. The black-and-white television blared a soap opera.
“Are you OK?”
“I’m just a little embarrassed. I can’t get up.”
Develyn hurried to her side. “Sweetie … I’m sorry. Let me help you.”
With Mrs. Tagley’s arm around her neck, Develyn helped her up. “Sit in this chair a minute and catch your breath. What happened? Did you fall?”
“Oh, I fell asleep on the couch last night, and I rolled over and fell on the floor. I couldn’t get up. I think that scared me.”
“When did you fall on the floor?” Develyn asked.
“About nine o’clock.”
“Last night?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Mrs. Tagley, I’m sorry I didn’t check on you sooner.”
“It’s a tough thing to lose some of the ability to take care of yourself. Now I’ll be even more frightened of falling. I cracked my knee on the counter a couple of days ago. It just wants to give out on me.”
“Honey, I’m going to come over here bright and early every morning to make sure you’re OK.”
“You don’t need to do that. I’ve taken care of myself for over ninety years.”
“It’s time someone looked in on you. I’ll only be here three or four more weeks, but I’ll check on you.”
“You really going back to Indiana? I was hopin’ you’d stay.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Tagley. That’s kind of you.”
“I don’t say it to everyone, but you’ve got Wyomin’ in your eyes. I saw it thirty-five years ago. I see it today.”
Develyn studied the older woman’s gray eyes. “What do you mean?”
“It’s kind of like a hunger and a fulfillment, a longing and a satisfaction, a dream and a reality that makes your heart beat faster and every breath of air taste sweeter. It’s a God-given gift, honey. He offers it to a few … and some reject it. But them that accepts it, never lets go. You’ll either live here or long for here all of your life. But you will never get Wyoming out of your system. You know in your heart what I say is true.”
Develyn bit her lip and nodded. “Yes, I think I’ve known that since I was ten.”
The bell at the front door jingled. Develyn helped Mrs. Tagley stand.
“I’ve been on the floor all night, Devy-girl. Go take care of my customers while I freshen up a bit. I need to comb my hair and put on some fresh makeup.”
Develyn stepped back to the store where she was greeted by a boy who looked about twelve.
“Where are your video games?” he demanded.
“They’re on the bottom shelf in the side room under the videos and DVDs,” Develyn said.
A man in Dockers and a maroon knit golf shirt strolled up to the counter. “I had a little car trouble, but the shop seems to be closed. The big door is open, but no one is there.”
“I’m sorry, Lloyd goes to Casper for auto parts every Thursday morning. He’ll be back between 9:30 and 10:00. He’s quite a good mechanic.”
“But the door is open.”
“I don’t think that door has worked in years. In the winter time, he hangs a plastic tarp.”
A blonde-haired lady with khaki shorts, matching maroon golf shirt, and sunglasses strolled up beside the man. “This isn’t Houston, Ryan. There is still a little trust in this world.”
A little girl about ten peered around the shelves. She wore jeans shorts, a pink “Cheyenne Frontier Days” tank top, sandals, and a bright pink cowboy hat with a fake featherhatband.
“Hi,” Develyn said. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Hillary Ann Thompson. I’m in the fourth grade at Rayburn Middle School. I live at 34266 Hillside Circle in Houston, Texas, 77008. My parents are Ryan and Melissa Thompson, and I’m going to be a cowgirl just like you when I grow up.”
Her mother grinned and hugged her shoulders.
Boots, jeans, cowboy hat and no makeup … I probably do look more Wyoming than Indiana.
“Good job, Mom. She knows just what to say.”
“The cowgirl part just started yesterday.”
“At the roundup?” Develyn pressed.
The father scratched his forehead. “No, we go to the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo every year, so they are used to rodeos. But driving north of Cheyenne we were stopped on the highway while they moved several hundred head of Herefords from one grazing ground to another.”
“One of the cowboys was a girl my age,” Hillary Ann Thompson reported.
“So, she decided on being a cowboy girl?”
“A cowgirl,” Hillary corrected.
“In Wyoming we call them cowboy girls.”
The boy stomped back into the main room. “Your video games stink!”
“David, that’s not appropriate,” his mother scolded.
“But it’s true.”
“Is there anything I can get for you?” Develyn asked.
“We’ll have to wait for Floyd for the fan belt. I’d like a bottle of water. How about you, Melissa?”
“Yes, that sounds nice. Do you have water in a glass bottle? It’s so much better than the plastic.”
“I don’t think so, but check the bottom shelf of the pop cooler. The store belongs to my friend, Mrs. Tagley. I’m just watching it while she does a few chores in the back.”
Melissa Thompson headed for the cooler.
“What about you kids?” Mr. Thompson asked.
“I want a Mountain Dew,” the boy said.
“I would like to have whatever cowboy girls have,” Hillary declared.
Develyn dug out an orange Popsicle from the freezer. “This is what Wyomin’ cowboy girls always have.”
The little girl’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“I didn’t even know they made Popsicles anymore,” the man murmured.
“I’m going to have one myself,” Develyn announced.
The lady returned with two plastic bottles of water. “It’s OK. I just prefer glass bottles if you had them.”
Develyn gave the man change and shoved the ten-dollar bill into the old-fashioned cash register.
“Do you mind if we wait out front on that old wagon seat?” the man asked.
“Oh, please do. Do you have a pocket knife?”
“Eh, no …”
Develyn reached under the counter and pulled out a yellowed stockman’s knife. “You can use this one and carve the kids’ initials in the bench.”
“You encourage graffiti?” the woman gasped.
“Just initials. It’s sort of like a guest registry. You don’t have to do it.”
“Cool,” the boy shouted. “Come on, Dad.”
“This is a different world,” the woman replied.
“Yes, it is,” Develyn said. “It’s a good world … and some people get to spend more time in it than others.”
Hillary clutched Develyn’s hand as they walked to the front of the store.
“Is that mule running loose?” the boy called out as he banged open the door.
“That’s my watch-burro. He’s a pet, like a dog. So I call him my watch-burro. His name is Uncle Henry. He is very fond of orange Popsicles, but don’t let him have yours.”
“A watch-burro?” Hillary squealed. “Daddy, can we get a …”
“No, absolutely not!”
“But you may visit with mine. I need to go to a rodeo in Douglas today, so he will be lonely,” Develyn said.
“Are you going to ride bucking horses?” the little girl asked.
“Oh, I hope not, honey. A cowboy friend of mine is teaching a bunch of boys how to ride bucking horses, and I’m going to watch.”
“Did you ever ride a bucking horse?” Hillary asked.
“Yes, I did.”
“In front of a big crowd?”
Develyn thought about the wild horse auction. “The arena was packed.”
“Did you get bucked off?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did you do then?” Hillary pressed.
“I did what every cowboy girl does. I got back on.”
Hillary’s eyes widened. “You did? When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”
“I’m going to walk down to that corral and back to stretch my legs,” Melissa Thompson declared. She turned and strutted down the stairs.
Ryan Thompson motioned to the bench. “David and I will be over here carving some initials.”
“What are you going to do?” Hillary asked Develyn.
“I’m going back to my log cabin over there to get my Jeep and drive to the rodeo.” Develyn turned to the man at the bench. “Mr. Thompson, could Hillary walk with me to that pasture? I wanted to show her my horse.”
“Oh, yes, Daddy, please!” Hillary squealed.
“Yes, you may. You mind this nice lady.”
Develyn and Hillary strolled hand in hand to the end of the pasture, licking Popsicles. Uncle Henry tagged along behind.
“Which horse is yours?” Hillary asked.
“The paint horse.”
“He’s beautiful.”
“She’s beautiful. Her name is My Maria.”
“You have a girl horse?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the name of the other horse?”
“That’s Popcorn. He belongs to my friend Casey Cree-Ryder. She’s an Indian.”
“A real Indian?”
“Yes.”
“So that is an Indian horse? Wow … this might be the best day of my entire life.”
Develyn squatted down next to Hillary until they were eye to eye.
“Honey, some time today or tomorrow, the Lord’s going to offer to give you Wyoming.”
Hillary’s eyes widened. “He will?”
“Yes, and you can either say ‘yes’ to that gift, or ‘no.’ I want you to say yes.”
“I will. I really, really will.”
“I know, Hillary Ann Thompson. I can see Wyoming in your eyes.”
* * *
The Broken Arrow Saddle Club loomed in the distance as Develyn pulled off the highway and onto the thinly graveled dirt road. The dust hovered like ground fog in her rearview mirror. By the time she parked in the converted pasture, grit coated her arms, face, and lungs. Several dozen pickups and horse trailers littered the grounds. Dogs ran among the rigs.
Uncovered wooden bleachers were half full of men and women wearing jeans, boots, and cowboy hats. She spied three wooden bucking chutes across from the stands. At the far end of the arena, roping boxes stood empty.
South of the arena, shade tarps stretched tight snapped like towels in a locker room when the wind picked up. Under the tarps, smoke steamed up from a huge portable barbecue grill. Next to the grill were several tables.
Two dozen boys, ages twelve to twenty, sat on the top rail of the fence. Each sported jeans, boots, long-sleeve western shirts, and cowboy hats. They listened to the dimpled cowboy with a black Resistol cowboy hat who rode a sorrel horse.
Develyn stood by the rail and watched the cowboy.
That’s Renny’s element, Lord. He’s home. He’s out under the Wyoming blue sky with the wind in his face, riding horseback and teaching the next generation what it’s all about. He looks happy. He looks at peace.
Is that the way I look in the classroom back in Crawfordsville?
I hope so.
I want to be content. I want to accept who I am.
I want to be as excited about the subject at hand as Renny.
Somehow, spelling and parts of speech don’t seem as thrilling as a bucking horse. Maybe I could devise a “Rodeo of Arithmetic” where they only get eight seconds to answer a math question.
Renny’s a natural teacher. Look at those boys. They will do absolutely anything he asks of them.
“And here’s Miss Dev!” Renny rode down in front of her.
She pulled off her sunglasses. “Hello, Mr. Slater.”
“Climb over the rail, darlin’. I promised to introduce you to the boys.”
She climbed up two rungs, threw her leg over the top rail, and slid to the arena dirt. Renny climbed down off the horse and handed her the reins.
“Ride down the line and introduce yourself to the boys.”
She took the reins, but hesitated to put her boot in the stirrup. “Slater, if you stick a thistle under this saddle and this horse so much as bucks once, I’ll jump off this horse and murder you in the middle of the arena with my bare hands,” she murmured. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am. I just want you to say howdy to the boys.”
She swung up into the saddle and jammed her right foot in the stirrup. “If he bucks, you’re dead, Slater.”
“Relax, Devy. You look younger when you relax. And eh …” He motioned to her face.
“What?”
“Wear your shades.”
“My sunglasses?” She glanced down at him. “What’s the matter, cowboy? You said you liked the no-makeup look.”
“Oh, I do, darlin’, but I sort of built you up with the boys.”
“And you don’t want me looking older than their mother?”
“No, darlin’ … that’s not it … exactly.”
“I think I might murder you anyway. Just for general principles.”
“Boys,” Renny hollered. “Let me introduce you to my good pal, Miss Dev Worrell. Earlier this summer she helped me ride stock over at that wild horse sale in Argenta. The day before yesterday, she and I were up at Graybull and we worked together and gentle-broke a rank mare in only seven hours. As far as I know, she and Casey Cree-Ryder are the only ones to ride down the north end of Sage Canyon and back up again since the oil company dynamited that roadway. What I’m sayin’ is, this is one tough cowboy girl. So treat her nice.”
Develyn rode down the rail, and like a wave at a Colts football game, the boys’ hats came off one at a time, followed by a chorus of “Howdy, Miss Dev, ma’am.”
They all have dirty cheeks, smiles on their faces, and cowboy in their eyes. Where do these boys come from? Oh, my, there are some lucky little girls in Wyoming.
She turned the horse around and walked him by the cowboys again.
“Now I know what some of you boys are thinkin’,” Renny said. “But Miss Dev is just a little too old for you. Besides, you’d have to wrestle me to get her hand.”
“I’ll wrestle you, Renny,” one boy shouted.
Develyn turned back to see a boy standing on the outside of the rail. His face looked twelve, but his body looked like an NFL linebacker.
“I bet you would, Luther,” Renny laughed. “Now that you’ve gotten a chance to meet Miss Dev, all of those in favor of my proposal, signify by sayin’ ‘aye’.”
Enthusiastic “ayes” exploded from the boys on the rail.
“All opposed, say ‘no’.”
Silence.
“What did I just get voted on?” she pressed.
“You are officially elected the queen of this rodeo.”
“Queen?” She glanced at the boys, and then out at the parents in the stands.
“I told them that even with all your experience with horses, you had never been elected rodeo queen. Now you have.”
“Oh my, that is a wonderful honor. Boys, thank you very much. Am I supposed to make a wall run, or what?”
“At this rodeo all the queen has to do is sit in the stands and look purdy, then present the trophies and ribbons at the barbecue.”
“And pose for pictures with the winners,” one of the boys called out.
“I’d be privileged to do that.”
“I’ll wrestle you for her, Renny,” Luther repeated.
* * *
Develyn sat all afternoon in the middle of the bleachers between Charley Rice’s grandmother, Beatrice, and Cody McAllen’s mother, Candy. Frank Slinisky and Candy’s husband, Larry, served as pickup men. The scores were decided by Frank, Larry, and Renny with a consultation in front of the bucking chutes right after the ride. Renny shouted the score and what made the ride strong or weak.
Sinde Salvador, stopwatch in hand, was the timer. Her daughter, Natasha, blew the portable airhorn after eight seconds. Except for when she was winking at Carrie Hammer’s cousin, Mason, from Rock Springs.
Each of the twenty-two boys rode two rounds. The top ten averages moved on to the finals. At the intermission after the second round, Renny met Develyn at the gate.
“How’s the rodeo queen?”
“It’s quite an honor. I presume I was the only candidate.”
“The others were too scared to run against you.”
He slipped his hand in hers, and they ambled toward the parked rigs.
“I think the whole queen thing was cooked up by my mustang breaker.”
“Hey, you need to be queen just once.”
“Thanks, Renny, you make every day fun.”
“Good. Because I don’t think Ms. Worrell has had nearly enough fun in her life.”
Develyn pushed her hat back. “Can I pull off my sunglasses now, or will it frighten you?”
“Pull ’em off.”
“You’re probably right. I’ve been uptight for so long it’s a lifestyle. But you and Casey and the others are helping me relax.”
“Good. I was hoping that would happen.”
“Look at today. It’s a little girl’s dream. I think I’ll put it on my dossier, right after my master’s degree—rodeo queen.”
When they reached Renny’s pickup, he opened the tailgate and motioned for her to sit next to him.
“You know what, Miss Dev … ?”
“What?”
“You make my life fun too.”
“As an object of your jokes?”
“No, when you’re around I try harder at everything. I’m more aware of things. Want to do it all a little better. You step my life up a notch just by being in the crowd. I know, I know … it sounds crazy. But you are a classy lady, and that’s every cowboy’s dream.”
“That’s a very nice thing to say.”
“Here’s the deal … my life gets to be such a routine.”
“A routine? Renny, your life is different every day of the year.”
“Oh, the jobs are different. But the manner that I go about them is routine. The same style. The same actions. Even the same jokes. And after a few years, I’m just givin’ the minimum. I know what it takes to get invited back. But I don’t do much more. Then here you are. I want you to see me at my best. So I don’t dawdle with shortcuts and old routines. I give it the effort it deserves, whether that’s breakin’ a wild mare or running this camp. I think that’s what I wanted most out of being married, and the thing I never got. I wanted someone to bring the best out in me. Am I making sense, or have I been bucked on my head too often?”
She kissed his cheek. “Renny, you may not know this, but you’ve been counseling me. Excellence in any field is difficult to maintain when you don’t have anyone in the stands to witness it. In almost twenty years of marriage, Spencer never came to one of my class programs. He said I wasn’t supposed to be involved with his work, and he wasn’t supposed to be involved with mine.”
“I am sorry about that, Dev. When we are young, I don’t think we understand the permanent effect of some of the choices in our lives. There are some things we can’t break free of, even if we want to.”
“If you had it to do all over, would you go back and marry your wife again?”
“You mean if I was eighteen again, but knew what I know now?”
“Yes.”
He pulled off his black felt hat and ran his calloused fingers through his sweaty hair. “Yes, I would, Dev. I was crazy in love with her. Maybe now I know how to do it right. How about you? If you were back there, a senior at Purdue, knowing what you know now … would you marry Spencer again?”
“It’s funny, but I realize, yes, I would. I don’t know if I’ve learned enough to make a difference. It seems to me I still don’t know enough to have kept him in my bed. But I wouldn’t miss Delaney for the world. And I do think I could do a better job raising her. I’d like a chance to try, no matter how much pain I’d have to repeat.”
“We’re two of a kind, Dev … and nothin’ alike.”
She smiled. “The rodeo queen and the mustang breaker. We are quite a pair, Mr. Slater. A rather fetching couple, don’t you think?”
He jammed his cowboy hat back on his head. “As long as I keep my receding blond hairline covered.”
Develyn pushed her sunglasses back on. “And as long as I keep my crows feet disguised.”
“Thanks, Ms. Schoolteacher, for comin’ over this afternoon.”
“And thank you, Mr. Mustang Breaker, for inviting me.”
Develyn slid her hand to the back of his neck and pulled his lips to hers.
It was a soft, peaceful kiss.
Until Natasha Salvador punched the airhorn.
Develyn stood up. “Do saddle-bronc riders only get to kiss for eight seconds?”
“I think that means it’s time for the finals. Besides, no one saw us over here smoochin’.”
“I’ll wrestle you for her, Renny!”
Develyn looked around, but couldn’t see Luther.
Renny took her hand and led her back to the arena. “What are we going to do with that boy?”
“I’ll walk up to him, grab the collar of his shirt, pull off my sunglasses, and say, ‘I’m your worst nightmare, Luther. I’m as old as your grandmother!’”
“Be gentle with the lad. You don’t want to scar him forever.”
* * *
The coffee shop was almost empty, but the air conditioning worked. Renny and Develyn sat across from each other. He sipped on iced tea. She had ice water.
“Well, Rodeo Queen, how was the evening?”
“The light was poor enough after dark that I survived even after I pulled off my sunglasses.”
“Ever’ one of the boys wanted a picture with you.”
“I think it was your exaggerated introduction of me.”
“Everything was the truth; just not the entire truth. Don’t sell yourself short, Dev. You have a wonderful personality. Those boys like being around you, even if you are as old as their mammas.”
“And some grandmas. Candy is a grandmother at thirty-four. You were great, Renny. That’s where you belong.”
“I know. Rodeo is not just about horses and buckles. It’s about self-discipline and courage and never giving up and believing you can do it.”
“I’m really glad I came. I’ve seen you with the big crowds. I’ve seen you with the ladies. I’ve seen you face-to-face with rank horses. But I think tonight was the best. You shined with those kids, Renny Slater. I felt proud to be with you.”
Renny chewed on his tongue as he stared at her. He looked out the window at the empty parking lot, then wiped the corner of his eyes. “Dadgum corral dust,” he mumbled.
“Was it something I said?”
“To have a classy woman like you say that she was proud to be with me … well, I reckon that’s the highest honor I ever received in my life.”
“Cowboy, you surely know how to make a girl feel good. For the life of me, I can’t understand why these Wyoming women aren’t lined up at your door begging you to marry them.”
A dimpled grin broke across his face. “You know, some women are funny that way. They want a home, income, steady work, stability.”
“Isn’t that pathetic?” she laughed.
“Exactly my point.”
“How about you? What do you need?”
“A future.”
“Oh, my, that’s a big assignment.”
“I’ve always said I’d keep up this life for a while but by the time I reached my forties, I would settle down. Well, here I am, and I don’t seem to be any closer to staying put.” He stirred his iced tea with his finger. “What are you doing next Tuesday?”
“Delaney flies in on Wednesday, but I think Tuesday is free. I’m not sure when Casey is coming back from Red Lodge, but it doesn’t matter. What did you have in mind?”
“I’d like to drive you up to my place in Buffalo. It’s not much. Just forty acres and a doublewide, but it has a lot of potential. I’ll have you back before dark.”
“That sounds fun. I’d like that, Renny.”
“Don’t be expecting something like Burdett’s.”
“When you come visit me in Indiana, don’t expect a place like Quint’s either.”
“You know what? I’d like to come visit you. I’d like to see your house … and your town … and your school. I’d like to sit in the back of the classroom and watch Ms. Worrell and those fifth-graders.”
“I can tell you this: you show up looking like the cowboy you are, and the whole class will hang on you and ignore me completely.”
“In Indiana?”
“Around our area, you have to be an astronaut, a basketball player, or a cowboy to grab the kids’ attention. Cowboys are the rarest of the three.”
Renny reached across the table. Develyn took his hand.
“Devy-girl, I don’t reckon I know what’s goin’ on here. One moment I’m wantin’ to get serious with you, and the next …”
“You want to run away?”
“No, the next moment I’m thinkin’ what a naïve, foolish cowboy I am to think I’d have a chance with you.”
“It’s my fault. I think I’m sending mixed signals. At times, I’m confused over what I really want, what the Lord wants, and what’s just a little girl’s fantasy that I can’t let go. I know you are always going to be a special person in my life. I’m really looking forward to going up to your place. I think the more we know of each other, the more we’ll understand where the Lord is leading.”
“Don’t hesitate to tell me the truth. I’d rather get bucked off quick and go on with life than get bounced around and fall off right before the buzzer.”
“Until this summer, I had no idea rodeo was a philosophy of life, not just a sport.”
Renny stood and tossed down a two-dollar tip. “It’s a narrow philosophy of life, Dev … but even then, I haven’t always acted too wisely.”
She grabbed her purse. “I have never been known for my wisdom, Renny. Ask my mother or my daughter.”
“I’ll get to meet Delaney, won’t I?”
“Yes, and she’ll swoon over your cowboy charm.”
Their rigs were parked side by side in the parking lot. A slight breeze made it cool, but not cold.
“I’ll see you Tuesday. Thanks for the good time, cowboy.” Develyn kissed his cheek.
He put his arm around her waist. “Anytime, Rodeo Queen.”
* * *
Develyn set the cruise control and plowed west along the dark trail of blacktop called Highway 20. An hour later, when she came to the Waltman/Argenta turnoff, she had met only six cars coming toward her and had passed one hay truck in her lane. She knew the dirt and gravel road back to Argenta, but at night she couldn’t see it very well, so she bounced along at forty-five miles per hour. All the lights were out at Mrs. Tagley’s.
She must have felt well enough to turn all the lights out. I’ll check on her early. I need to leave myself a note. Casey is gone; just an empty cabin. It’ll be great to have Dee here … if we can keep from ticking each other off. I think I came out here to be by myself, but you in your wisdom, Lord, you did not leave me alone. I thank you for that. I’m lousy company, that’s for sure.
She parked her Cherokee next to the cabin’s front porch. Even in the dark a familiar face greeted her.
“It looks lonely back here, Uncle Henry. No Casey … and Cooper must have turned in early. I brought you back a taste of sweet feed. A lady at the rodeo named Sharon gave it to me … said it will help you and My Maria sleep better. I never knew horses or burros had trouble sleeping, but I promised I would try it.”
She grabbed up a coffee can from the back of the Jeep.
“Whoa, look at this.” She held up a man’s white sock. “I’m sure this is Coop’s. I’d better give it right back to him. I don’t want to have to explain to Delaney how it got there.”
The compressed feed was about the size of Develyn’s thumb. She shoved it in Uncle Henry’s mouth, and he chomped it like a carrot.
“So you like that, huh? Let me get the big flashlight, and I’ll take some out to the horses.” She lit the lantern in the cabin and grabbed the large black flashlight.
Uncle Henry stood up on the porch by the door waiting for her.
“You get down, honey … you will not get a reward for being naughty. I’ll put this sock on Mr. Tallon’s porch, then we’ll go find My Maria and give her a sleeping pill. Hah … I need to take one of these. I wonder what they taste like. They smell like compressed weeds.”
She crept up onto Tallon’s porch and draped the sock through the door handle.
I might as well give his two ponies a treat too. The whole neighborhood will get some sleep.
Cooper Tallon’s bay horse waited at the corral, but she couldn’t spot the buckskin. She fed the bay some of Sharon’s sweet feed. “Where’s your pal? You’re a hungry thing! Cooper feeds you or turns you out every night. I’ve watched him … what are you … he hasn’t come back yet, has he?”
Develyn tossed some hay to the corralled horse and tromped back to Tallon’s cabin. She rapped on the door. “Coop? Sorry to bother you. Are you there?”
She pushed down on the latch and swung the door open. “Coop? Are you in here?”
She shined the light around the cabin.
It’s identical to mine … only neater. Of course, he doesn’t have two women living in his. He’s not home yet, but he should be. He was just going to the rim of Cedar Hills. He should have been back by noon. He could be in trouble. Maybe he got bucked off.
Coop doesn’t look like the type who bucks off easy.
Maybe he had a heart attack? He’s a hard-working man. Or a stroke? Or a snake bite?
It’s not about me … it’s about others. And Cooper Tallon is one of the others you put in my life. I’ll call him. If he has any cell phone reception … maybe he’s able to talk and can tell me how to locate him. He knows these mountains. He came out in the dark after me.
Develyn stepped out on the porch and flashed the light at her cell phone. She punched Tallon’s number.
Ring … please, Lord, let there be reception … Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Yes! He’s got …” She paused when she heard a phone ring inside Tallon’s cabin. “Rats … he left the phone here. Never mind about that prayer, Lord.”
She trotted back to her cabin.
“Uncle Henry, we’re going to saddle My Maria and go look for Cooper. I can at least ride up to the hills and back. I won’t get lost in the open sage.”
She glanced up at the dark sky.
“Of course, it would be better if those clouds didn’t cover the moon and stars. But I’m going to do it, because he needs someone to help him. And this summer is not about me.”
She grabbed her saddle out of the back of Casey’s horse trailer.
“I wish you could carry a flashlight, Uncle Henry. I know, I’ll park the SUV over there and leave the headlights on to saddle by. Then I’ll leave the motor running and park the rig around back with the lights on high beam across the prairie. I’ll ride until the lights get dim, then I’ll turn around if I haven’t spotted him by then.”
She ducked between the fence rails and snapped the lead rope on a startled paint mare. “Come on, girl, we have search-and-rescue work tonight. Wow, I’m beginning to sound like a real Wyoming cowboy girl, aren’t I? I hope I know what I’m doing. That would be different, wouldn’t it?”