By four a.m., Dirk’s mind was still racing. Giving up on sleep altogether, he rose, dressed, and headed out to the rodeo grounds. With Grady dead to the world, he figured it was his best chance to catch Janice alone. Finding the water troughs already filled and the bulls eating their hay, he figured she’d probably gone back to her trailer for a couple more hours of shut-eye. Not wishing to wake her, he decided to get some breakfast and then come back. Tired of vendor wagon fare, he drove a few miles toward the outskirts of town to a truck stop where he bellied up to the counter.
He ordered black coffee and the three-egg special when two guys entered the diner sporting buzz cuts and Marine Corps khakis. “Mornin’.” Dirk tipped his hat.
The two marines nodded in acknowledgment and then sat a few stools down. After a minute, the taller, leaner one of the two cocked his head at Dirk. “You in Cheyenne for the rodeo?”
“Yeah,” Dirk replied.
“Thought I recognized you.” The bigger guy grinned. “You’re Dirk Knowlton, right?”
“Last I checked,” Dirk replied. “But I’m sorry to say I can’t place you.”
“Reid. Reid Everett.” The marine extended his hand. “It’s been a few years, but I rode saddle broncs against you back in high school. You beat me out in the finals.”
“Shit yeah! I remember you now. You’re from Dubois, right? As I recall, your whole team left spur tracks in your cantles.”
Reid shook his head with a laugh. “The victor always thinks he can rewrite the battle any way he likes.”
“Damn straight.” Dirk returned a shameless grin. “So you’re in the marines now?”
“Yup.” Reid nodded. “Home on leave. Garcia and me just finished boot camp.”
“Semper fi, man,” Garcia added with a toothy grin.
“We got ten days liberty,” Reid said, “so me and my buddy decided to take a road trip.”
“Did you just get into Cheyenne?”
“Yeah, but we’ve been travelin’ a while. We stopped in Vegas, visited my family in Dubois and then my girl over in Riverton. We’ll probably be hitting the road day after tomorrow. Gotta return to San Diego for infantry training, but I promised Rafael here some live rodeo action before we leave. He’s from LA and probably doesn’t know the front end of a bull from the back.”
“Hey, give me some credit, ése,” Garcia protested. “I can tell horns from cojones.”
“If you want to see bulls, you’re in for a treat,” Dirk said. “Just a few miles up the road there’s at least fifty of the rankest bovines you ever seen, just waiting for the chance to toss some dumb-ass cowboy like me fork end up.”
“Oh yeah?” Garcia grinned. “This I gotta see.”
“So you’re ridin’ bulls now?” Reid asked.
“Yeah. I started just to win the All-Around, but now I’m helping out a friend who’s a bucking bull contractor. Since I’m here with the bulls anyway, I might as well ride, right?”
“Makes sense…if you can keep from getting freight-trained by those big snot-slobbering bastards.”
“Getting freight-trained is a given if you do it long enough.” Dirk shrugged. “But I’m in the money more often than not…least I was until the past few weeks.”
“You ever ride a bull, ése?” Garcia asked Reid.
“Hell no.” Reid laughed. “It’s bad enough to hang a pedal on a bronc. I can’t say I’ve ever had a hankering to take a horn in the ass from a near ton of pissed-off bull.”
“Still backing any broncs?” Dirk asked him.
“Negative. Not for a few years. I traded my spurs for an M-16.”
“Know where you’ll be deployed yet?” Dirk asked.
“Not yet, but with all the saber rattling in the Middle East, you can bet the ranch it’ll be Iraq or Afghanistan.” The marines ordered their breakfast and the three men continued their small talk.
“You staying in Cheyenne tonight?” Dirk asked.
“Nah. I figured we’d drive to Laramie. I’ve got some family there too.”
“If you change your mind or have too many drinks and need a place to crash, me and my buddy are at the Motel Six. Here’s my cell.” Dirk borrowed a pen from the waitress and scrawled his number on a napkin. “Do you remember Grady Garrison?”
“Hell yeah. That crazy bastard hasn’t got himself killed yet?”
Dirk laughed. “He was alive and breathin’ as of last night, but today’s a whole new day.”
Reid laughed. “If a bull don’t get him first, my money says some jealous cowboy eventually will.”
Dirk was finished eating by the time the waitress brought Reid’s and Garcia’s food. He picked up their check as well as his own. When Reid made to protest, Dirk laid a hand on his shoulder. “Please. I got it. I want you to know I appreciate what you’re doin’.”
“Thanks, man,” Reid replied. “Let me know if you ever get out to Southern California.”
“Thanks. Maybe I’ll do that one day. I’ve always had a hankering to see the Pacific Ocean.” Dirk tipped his hat. “Stay safe, OK?”
“Ditto, ése,” Garcia replied. “You’re the one riding those badass bulls.”
* * *
Janice had looked forward to Cheyenne Frontier Days every July from as far back as she could recall. Frontier Park was the cowboy version of Disney World with its grand parades, Old West Museum, Indian Village, and giant carnival midway where she’d often eaten enough cotton candy and funnel cakes to make her puke. As a kid, it had been a magical place, but now that she was one of the myriad invisible people behind the scenes, the enchantment had pretty much worn off.
At eleven o’clock it was already hot as Hades, which only magnified the reek of manure. The stock pens swarmed with flies and bawling cattle, and the arena choked Janice’s throat with dust. Looking out on the crowds, however, her chest expanded with a sense of pride to be part of it all. Rodeo was a pure American tradition that she hoped would never die out. Although the sport was struggling elsewhere, the stands in Cheyenne were packed to capacity and anticipation permeated the air with the announcer’s booming proclamation that the grand entry was about to begin.
A moment later, the audience rose to their feet with wolf whistles and thunderous applause as the drill team entered the arena at a mad gallop that generated enough wind to send their banners flapping and snapping. Janice climbed on top of one of the panels for a better view. The team split into pairs, performed an intricate pattern, and joined up again in the center in a tight militaristic formation. What followed was a highly synchronized drill performed to a medley of patriotic music. The crowd’s excitement and the sense of nationalism never failed to make her own pulse race.
A few minutes into the drill, Grady appeared beside her at the bull pens. She thought it odd that she’d seen no sign of Dirk. He usually dropped by with coffee, but for the first time in almost a month of traveling together, he hadn’t materialized.
“Who’d you draw today?” she asked absently.
“Death Wish,” Grady replied.
“Not one of mine. Know anything about him?”
“Yeah.” He grinned big and bad. “He’s my kinda bull. Twenty outs and no rides…yet. I’ve been aching all year to ride that nasty motherfucker.”
“You really do think you’re something, don’t you?”
He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “The stats don’t lie, Sweet Cheeks. I’m hot shit right now.”
Janice shook her head with a snort. “What about Dirk? Who’d he draw?”
“Hell if I know. Ain’t seen him. He was already gone when I woke up.”
“Strange he hasn’t come around.” She wondered where he was but then remembered who had walked into the bar last night. Had he and Rachel left together? The idea that they might have made her heart sick. She still couldn’t help asking. “Any idea where he is?”
“After who showed up last night?” Grady echoed her own thoughts. “I think we both know the answer to that. In case you’re wondering, they hit the dance floor together after you left.”
She was doubly glad she hadn’t hung around. The thought of Dirk and Rachel melded together on the dance floor made her chest ache.
At the end of the drill routine, the rodeo queens entered in a dazzling spectacle. Janice couldn’t help scanning the long line of glittering cowgirls for Miss Rodeo Montana. Although there were other blonds and palominos in the parade of beauties representing every rodeo organization in the union, Rachel Carson was impossible to miss.
The queens formed a circle around the periphery of the arena with the reigning Miss Rodeo America taking center stage with the American flag. The crowd rose once more for the national anthem. It always drew a lump into her throat, but today Janice’s emotions were reeling for another reason.
Grady had doffed his hat and was holding it over his heart in true-blue cowboy fashion. When the music ended, he shoved it back on his head and then leaned against the panels. He reached into his shirt pocket. “I got a pair of tickets for Chris LeDoux tonight.”
“That’s great. I figure he might have sold out with this crowd.”
“Wanna go?” he asked.
“You’re inviting me?”
“Yeah.” Grady grinned. “You might even call it a date.”
She regarded him in genuine surprise. “Why me?”
For weeks she’d kept Grady at bay, laughing off his sexual innuendos and halfhearted attempts to coerce her into bed. She wondered why he still had his sights set on her when he had his pick of so many others. Maybe it was just the challenge? The fact that she kept saying no?
He kicked at the dirt. “Maybe I got a hankering for a change.”
She laughed. “A change from what? Your steady diet of buckle bunny?” He was one of the best bull riders on the circuit and women flocked to the chutes after every one of his rides.
He grinned. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. There’s still plenty of me to go around. So, you wanna go or not? He’s only doing a few engagements. You might never get another chance.”
She leaned back to consider him, resting one booted heel on the bottom rung of the corral panel. The offer was mighty tempting. Chris LeDoux was one of the most beloved names in rodeo and she’d been raised on his music. She still hesitated. “Is there a hitch?” she asked. This was Grady after all.
He raised his brows and turned his palms in an innocent I-don’t-know-what-you-mean gesture.
“Are there strings attached?” she prodded.
“No strings.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “But I’d be more’n happy to use some rope if you’re inclined.”
“Ropes and spurs? Is that all part of your repertoire?”
His face split into his full coyote grin. “Only by special request.”
She considered him for a long beat. “What time does it start?”
“Eight.”
“No can do, Grady. I’m working the chutes, and won’t even be done here by then.” There was no shortage of work to occupy her. With seventy-some riders and just as many bulls, she’d be glued to the chutes for the long haul. She told herself it would get easier as the days passed due to rider attrition from injuries and no turn out, but tonight she sure could use a hand.
“Even if the rides are all finished,” she said, “I still have to take care of the bulls and then clean up. I won’t go out reeking of the stock pens.”
“Then I’ll come by and help you settle things for the night. That’ll give you time to pretty up for me.”
“Pretty up, eh?” She laughed. “Maybe your expectations are a bit high. But even if you do help me out, I still won’t be done in time for the start of the show.”
“Probably not, but there’s always a warm-up before the headliner anyway. Worst-case scenario, we’ll catch the second half. Truth be told, I’m as interested in the company as I am the music.”
That remark took her aback. Janice gave him a bemused look. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
He shrugged with a flash of his cocky grin. “I can talk real sweet when I want to.” His gaze roamed slowly over her. “Just give me half a chance and I’ll sweet-talk those jeans right off you. I’ve a powerful hankering to feel those mile-long legs wrapped around me.”
Janice rolled her eyes with an exasperated huff and then pushed off the pen. “I got work to do.”
He’d said no strings, but she wasn’t naive enough to think he’d do anything without an ulterior motive. She turned to walk away but then looked out at the arena where the queens were pairing up and filing out. For weeks she’d waited, hoping for some sign from Dirk, but now Rachel was back in the picture. Grady was right. It was past time to give up and move on.
She was fed up with waiting. Tired of only being thought of as one of the stock hands. Sick of being alone. Maybe Grady wasn’t perfect, pretty far from it actually, but at least he was interested. He’d been good-humored about all of her prior rejections, mainly because he didn’t need her company, but now maybe she needed his.
On a sudden impulse she spun back to him. “All right, Grady. I’ll go with you.”
His smile widened. “I’ll come back around when my ride’s done.”
Janice watched him swagger off with mixed feelings. He wasn’t her dream come true, but she really wanted to have some fun for a change. It’s why she’d gone to the Outlaw the night before, to have a drink or two, maybe dance a little, and just unwind, but she hadn’t even finished one drink. The last time before that had been the after-party in Casper—an even bigger disaster.
Thinking back to the party, she recalled how embarrassed she’d been at not have anything decent to wear. Last night the rodeo queens had looked down their noses at her just like they’d done at the Plaza Hotel in Casper. She might not be in their league, but she wasn’t about to set herself up for that kind of humiliation again. Although she despised shopping with a fiery passion, she wondered what it would feel like to look like a girl for a change.
She consulted the rodeo schedule. And then her watch. There were at least fifty bareback rides before the first section of bulls. If she left now, maybe she could find something to wear in one of the boutiques. Without giving herself a chance to rethink and back down, Janice checked the water buckets in her bull pens, grabbed her purse from her trailer, and headed over to the Frontier Village.
* * *
Janice was in the third shop, a high-end boutique, and growing more frustrated by the second. She stepped out of the dressing room to the three-way mirror in a brown broomstick skirt and blousy floral top. She turned one way and then the other, chewing her lip in indecision. She should have known the clothes would be expensive. She didn’t mind paying if she could make some kind of a fashion statement, but couldn’t help thinking she looked more like her mama on a church social day. She turned back to the dressing room ready to give up and just buy a new pair of Wranglers when a feminine voice stopped her.
“You’re Janice, right?”
She spun around to find herself face-to-face with Rachel Carson.
“I thought that was you,” Rachel continued. “Weren’t you at the party in Casper?”
Janice was almost too stunned to respond. “I was there,” she replied. “But not for long. I left once I knew the mischief Grady was up to.”
“Grady Garrison?” Rachel’s expression darkened. “Mischief?” she huffed. “That’s putting it mild, don’t you think? His raunchy karaoke routine ruined the party and then he started a brawl. He’s lucky we didn’t call the cops. You aren’t seeing him, are you?”
“No. Not exactly,” Janice replied. “But he did ask me to the concert tonight. It’s why I’m here. I was just lookin’ for something—”
“Please tell me you’re not buying that,” Rachel said.
Janice flushed.
“I’m so sorry!” Rachel’s hand came over her mouth with an embarrassed laugh. “That didn’t come out right at all! I just mean the colors totally wash you out. You have such pretty hair and eyes. You should wear jewel tones. Blues and greens. It was part of my queen training you know, learning to make the most of color. Come here. Let me show you.” She grabbed Janice firmly by the elbow and steered her to another rack. “These colors would be incredible on you.” She pulled a sexy tie-dyed sundress off the rack and held it up. Her brows furrowed in a long appraising look. “Maybe this one would be better yet.” She snatched a long colorful T-shirt off another rack. “You need to showcase those long legs.”
Janice wondered what the shirt had to do with her legs. “Would I just wear it with my jeans?”
“No silly!” Rachel giggled. “With your boots! It’s a dress.”
“A dress?” Janice protested. “It would barely cover my ass.”
“And I promise the cowboys wouldn’t mind a lick! But if that bothers you, just wear some cotton leggings under it. Trust me. I know these things. I promise you won’t recognize yourself when I’m done.”
Janice grimaced. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Rachel ignored the remark and shoved several more garments into her arms before steering Janice back into the dressing booth. “Just give these a try, will you?” She glanced down at Janice’s well-worn brown ropers. “Got some dress boots?”
“No. Just another pair of ropers.”
“Nothing with a bit of heel or a splash of color?”
Janice shook her head. “Nope. Solid tan.”
“You know they’ve got some really cool dress boots here. Let me go take a look for you while you’re putting those on. What size do you wear?”
“Eight and a half. But I really can’t af—”
Rachel held up a hand. “Just humor me, OK? This makeover thing is kind of a hobby of mine.”
Janice fumed at the idea that she’d unwittingly become the rodeo queen’s charity case but entered the dressing room anyway. She barely had the brown skirt pulled off before more clothes flew over the dressing room door—a gypsy-style peasant dress, a sexy slim-fitting halter dress, and a denim miniskirt with buckskin fringe with a matching denim bustier top.
An hour later, Janice had to reassess her entire estimation of Rachel Carson. She really wasn’t the spoiled little bitch-girl Janice had always believed her to be. Rachel seemed genuine about her desire to help. They had never run in the same circles and had never even had a true conversation before today, but Janice knew the rodeo queen had plenty of other things she could have been doing besides helping a fashion-backward stock hand pick out a dress.
Now that Janice had seen another side of her rival, she grudgingly confessed that Rachel’s appeal ran deeper than her flawless skin. She couldn’t help liking her and understood why Dirk was so taken with her…by her. Although they’d split, there was no doubt in Janice’s mind that he truly was taken—whether he realized it yet or not.
“You’re working the rough stock, right?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah. I brought a few bulls.” Janice wondered where this was going.
“Then you’ll be seeing Dirk, right?”
“I’m sure I’ll be seeing him eventually.”
Rachel chewed her lip. “Do you think maybe you could give him a message for me?”
Janice almost laughed aloud at the irony of becoming Rachel’s emissary.
“Could you tell him I’d like us to talk? We really didn’t get much chance last night.”
Janice bit her tongue. They were too busy “making up” to talk?
“I’m staying at the Cheyenne Marriott.” Rachel pulled a card out of her purse and scrawled her room number on the back, then handed it to Janice. “I’d appreciate it if you’d give this to him. We have a lot to work out, but I’m sure you know how it is with these bullheaded cowboys.” She winked.
“Yeah. I’ve been around a few in my time,” Janice replied woodenly.
She’d been right about Dirk and Rachel getting back together. It was past time for a reality check. Cowboys like Dirk belonged to rodeo queens like Rachel. While stock hands like Janice… Although Grady’s foul mouth and rough ways certainly didn’t qualify him as Prince Charming, Janice’s dirty jeans and callused fingers hardly gave her the makings of a fairy princess either. Grady’s goal was to make it to the top in the bull-riding world and he probably had the talent to get there. Janice’s own ambition—to join the big league of bull contractors and take her bulls to the finals—was compatible with that. It might not be a match made in heaven, but they were both focused, hardworking, and goal driven. Was she settling? Maybe, but she was pragmatic enough to accept reality.
Janice stuffed Rachel’s card into her back pocket and left the boutique shortly after that. She carried two shopping bags, her heart hammering with a mix of excitement and guilt. Today’s shopping spree had set her back.
Way back.
She’d never gone hog wild like that before. The Old Gringo boots alone were almost a month’s pay. She’d have to live on saltine crackers to make up for it. She almost spun back into the store to return everything, but then took a calming breath. She’d saved a bundle by camping out in the stock trailer instead of staying at a motel. Would one selfish splurge in her whole life really hurt anything?
When she got back to her trailer she opened the bags and boxes with trembling hands. She fondled the supple leather boots that were almost identical to the ones she’d drooled over in Cody. The denim miniskirt would certainly show them off—along with her legs. She stared at the skirt and boots with a sudden feeling of discomfort, as if she was trying to impersonate someone else. Then she recalled the look on Dirk’s face when Rachel had walked into the bar the night before.
Just once in her life, she’d like to have that jaw-dropping effect on a guy. She supposed tonight was her chance. She imagined the look of shock that would come over Grady when he opened the door. Maybe it was worth what she’d spent after all. His expression alone would be priceless—but part of Janice still couldn’t help wishing it was on another cowboy’s face.
* * *
Dirk took over two hours getting back to the rodeo grounds. He’d jawed so long with Reid and Garcia that he hadn’t got back into town until they’d blocked off the streets. He’d forgotten all about the parade and had no choice but to sit and wait it out. Once he finally got back to the arena, the first events were in full swing. He’d hoped to catch Janice alone but probably wouldn’t get a chance to talk with her until tonight—he hoped over a quiet dinner.
He still didn’t know quite what he was gonna say. What did he really want from her? He wasn’t sure of that either. There was a lot to figure out between them and opening that door suddenly seemed so hard. He’d kept his distance for so long that he wasn’t even certain what kind of reception he’d get. For the first time he could recall, Dirk felt unsure of himself.
So he’d stalled.
He’d first hung out with the bronc riders, watching every ride—mostly young cowboys eating dirt. Then he hung around the timed event end of the arena for the barrel racing. Once the last rider finished and the final scores were announced, he finally headed over to the bull pens. Grady was already suited up in his chaps and safety vest, occupied with his preparations. He must be one of the first draws. Dirk was one of the last. He’d hit it lucky.
He had his chance. “Hey, Red.” He tipped his hat.
“Hey yourself,” Janice answered mechanically and continued her routine, throwing the rope over the bull’s back and leaning down to hook it under his belly. “Haven’t seen you today.” She didn’t look up at him even though he knew she could have flanked the bull blindfolded.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t around to help you this morning. I came by early, but you’d already fed, so I went for some breakfast. I ran into an old rodeo buddy at the diner and then got stuck by all the parade roadblocks.”
“You don’t answer to me,” Janice said, sounding irritated.
“No, but I owed you the courtesy of an explanation,” Dirk replied. “Something wrong, Red?”
“No. Why would you say that?”
“I dunno.” He shrugged. “You just seem out of sorts…”
“I’m just busy, Dirk. There’s a lotta bulls to flank and a lotta riders to spot.”
“Yeah, I can see that. I’ll be glad to help until my ride. Do you think we can talk later? Can I maybe buy you dinner when you’re done tonight?”
Janice stood, setting her hook against the chute, and then settling her hands on her hips.
“What’s all this about, Dirk? You avoid me for weeks and then the minute Grady asks me out, you all of a sudden want to talk?”
“Grady asked you out? You didn’t accept, did you?”
“Yeah. As a matter of fact I did. He bought tickets for Chris LeDoux.”
Grady was watching them from the platform several chutes down. Even from this distance he could detect his buddy’s scowl. He leaned in closer and dropped his voice real low. “Do you really think that’s a good idea, Red?”
“What business is it of yours?” He could almost see her bristle. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, cowboy—especially after last night. Which reminds me…I was s’posed to give you something.” She pulled a card out of her back pocket and shoved it toward him.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Rachel’s hotel and room number. She’s expecting you.” Janice picked up her rope hook and moved on to the next bull.
He followed after her. “Please, Red.”
Janice spun around. “If you wanted to talk to me so bad, you’ve had plenty of chances before now. Even last night—but I s’pose Rachel walking in must have been quite the distraction.”
“This is exactly why we need to talk. There’s some things I need to explain—”
“The look on your face last night was self-explanatory. There’s nothing more that needs saying. Grady might be a horndog, but at least he doesn’t play these head games.”
He winced, feeling as if she’d slapped him. She had no idea who the real Grady was, or what he was really after, but if he tried to warn her off again it would just look like petty jealousy. Shit! Now what the hell could he do? He couldn’t have dinked things up any better if he’d tried.
“Just give me a minute,” he pleaded.
“I’m sorry, Dirk. I don’t have time for this right now.”
He had to talk to her, and swore he would, but she was in no frame of mind to listen. “Have it your way.” He spun away, grinding his teeth.
* * *
Feeling all too raw and vulnerable, Janice watched Dirk stalk off. Did he think she was just going to wait around on him forever? He’d had weeks to talk to her but now, the very minute she’d decided to move on, he was all of a sudden interested? No way in hell was she going to let him manipulate her like that. In all truth, Grady couldn’t hurt her if he tried, but if she gave Dirk half a chance, he’d surely break her heart.