Chapter 13
Gemma settled into the saddle, touched her lucky horseshoe hat pin, and measured the reins. She wiggled in the saddle to make sure it was exactly right, shoved her bootheels down into the stirrups, got her legs in the right position for the mark out, and cleared her mind of everything.
Eight seconds after she motioned for the gates to open, the ride was over. Less than a minute afterward she was already on the ground waiting for the announcer to give the score and holding her breath. Trace had drawn a meaner-than-hell bronc that had a buck like she’d never seen before. The horse’s hooves barely hit the ground during the whole ride, and Trace had come away with a seventy-nine, tying with Coby Taylor’s score of seventy-nine.
“And here they are, cowboys and cowgirls,” the announcer said.
Gemma held her breath and crossed her fingers behind her back.
“Scores are in for the last ride of the evening,” the announcer said, and the whole rodeo arena fell silent. He held on to the dramatic moment so long that Gemma thought her chest would explode. “Miz Gemma O’Donnell beats the guys by one point with an eighty. So put your hands together and let’s hear it for the lady rider tonight from Ringgold, Texas, who is headed for the playoffs if she keeps riding like she just did.”
Gemma sucked in a lungful of air, took a bow, and headed back behind the chutes to collect her saddle. She’d done it! By golly, she’d won, and she could take that news home to Ringgold. She was now the top money winner in the bronc busting competition. Eight seconds could change it in Dodge City at the end of July, but right that minute she was on top of the pile.
“Good ride,” Coby said from the shadows.
“Thanks,” Gemma said.
He stepped out, grabbed her arm, spun her around, and landed a hard kiss right on her lips. She was so stunned that she couldn’t move for a few seconds, and when she could regain her senses, she pushed him hard and took a step back.
“You sorry sumbitch… What did you do that for?” She wiped the kiss from her mouth with her gloved hand.
“You didn’t mind when Trace Coleman did it. You fussed at him, but I hear you two have hooked up quite a bit,” Coby said.
Her lips felt like they’d been surprised, not loved. “That still didn’t give you the right, and it’s none of your business.”
“Aww, come on, Gemma, don’t wipe it away. You deserved that kiss. You beat out me and Trace to get it,” Coby said.
“I don’t like your way of thinking. Do you kiss Trace when he wins?” Gemma’s tone sounded icy cold in her own ears.
Coby’s laugh was brittle. “You’re playing in a field where you don’t belong. Get ready for some backlash, woman.”
“Don’t call me ‘woman’!” She gave Coby her meanest go-to-hell look and walked away from him. In a few long, easy strides he was beside her.
“Darlin’, don’t be like that. We could be good together. I’ve had my eye on you since St. Paul, and I felt the vibes when we danced together,” he said.
She stopped and jabbed a finger in his chest. “But I didn’t. I’m not interested, and don’t ever try that stunt again or you’ll be picking yourself up out of the dust.”
“And who is going to put me there? Trace Coleman?” Coby sneered.
She popped her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I fight my own fights, Coby. Just don’t touch me again and stay away from me.”
“He said you were a hellcat.” Coby laughed.
“Whoever you are talking about must know me real well,” she said through clenched teeth.
Gemma took her saddle from a tall, middle-aged cowboy. Dust shot up around her boots with every step on the way to her trailer. She put the saddle away and then opened the shoebox with all her paper shamrocks inside. The one for the Cheyenne contest was right on top. She picked it up, covered the back with glue, and smacked it on the horseshoe on the back of her door. Then she stood back and wiped her mouth one more time.
A hard knock on the door made her jump. If it was Coby, she intended to kick him off the step and out into the dirt. That wouldn’t even be enough to punish him for taking all the joy out of the win. She slung open the door to find Trace standing there with a grin on his face.
“Good ride,” he said. “I expected to see you dancing around, not looking like you just sucked all the juice out of a lemon.”
“I’m sorry. Coby made me mad,” she told him and motioned him inside.
Trace’s expression went stone-cold serious. “What did he do?”
“Nothing that I didn’t take care of.” She could still hear ice dripping from her tone. “But for your information, he kissed me, and I hated it. I’m going to win this whole enchilada to prove to him I can do it.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I’m glad you hated it, but Coby better watch himself.”
“I agree, but I don’t want to talk about him.” She snuggled down into his chest.
“I missed this,” he whispered.
“Me too, but you were being a stubborn ass and wouldn’t talk to me. Which reminds me, we still haven’t had that talk yet.” She took a step back.
He wiggled his dark brows. “Want to blow off the dance and fall into bed?”
“I want to go to the dance and then…” She let the sentence drag.
“As long as there is a then, I can wait. And we’ll have that talk later,” he said.
“Give me two minutes to get out of these chaps and get my spurs off,” she told him.
“Let me help you,” he said as he sat down on the edge of the small bed and unbuckled her chaps. “Anything else I can remove for you, darlin’?”
“Later, maybe. Right now, I want to dance, and I don’t want to see Coby again,” she said.
“If he comes around, I’ll take care of him,” Trace said.
“No, if he comes around, I’ll show him that I meant what I said. He doesn’t think I belong in the competition, and he’s just mad because he’s getting whipped.” She brushed out her hair and reapplied lipstick. “You ready?”
“I am,” he said with a grin.
***
When they reached the arena, Trace led her out into the center and drew her into his arms for a slow dance. The lead singer of the band was doing a number by Josh Turner called “Angels Fall Sometimes.”
The lyrics talked about her being out of his league, and she had found out he wasn’t a saint. The words talked about waking up and that every now and then angels fall sometimes. Trace felt the song rather than heard it, and he would give his kingdom if the angel in his arms would fall in love with him.
They danced through six or seven dances. During the slow songs she melted into his arms so close to his body that air couldn’t get between them. During the fast ones, he swung her out from him until she was giggling and breathless.
And then a redhead tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Mind if I cut in?”
Gemma stepped back and laughed when Trace rolled his eyes toward the star-studded sky. It was all part of the dance, and she’d had him to herself for half an hour. She turned to walk away, and Landry Winters grabbed her arm and spun her around, and then brought her back to come to a screeching halt right at his chest. He tipped her chin up with his fist and gazed down into her eyes.
“Rumor has it that you and Trace are getting awful close. Is that really true?” he asked.
Gemma backed up. “I’d say that’s our business. You said something like that this afternoon when we drove up on the grounds, remember?”
“Yes, but I heard some more. I hear you are living with him now,” Landry said.
“That’s none of your business, Landry. But even if I was, is there something wrong with that?” she asked.
“Be careful, darlin’. He’ll break your heart,” Landry whispered.
Gemma looked up into his pretty face and smiled. “Would you break my heart?”
Landry’s dimples deepened when he smiled. “Of course not. I’d be right up front and say that it was a fling, but not Trace. He’ll promise you the moon and deliver a heartache.”
“That’s a helluva pickup line.” She laughed.
“It’s my best one. Is it working?” Landry asked.
She shook her head and took a step back when the song ended. “You’d best try it on one of those girls over there staring right at you. I bet they’ll be willing for a rodeo fling.”
“I’ll kick them all out for a night with you. You get tired of Trace, you are welcome to come to my trailer.” Landry tipped his hat and in a few long strides he was shooting a line to the women who’d been eyeballing him.
“You ready for that game of poker?” Trace whispered right behind her as he slipped both arms around her waist.
“I’m ready to go, but I forgot to buy cards and I bet your deck is marked, isn’t it?” she teased.
“Forget the cards.” He laced his fingers in hers and led her out of the light into the shadows.
They’d only gone a few yards toward the trailers when he scooped her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way. He unlocked the trailer door and set her down on the steps, stood back, and let her go in ahead of him. When he was inside, he shut the door, locked it, and wrapped his arms around her tightly. His lips found hers in a clash of passion, and he backed her up toward the bedroom. His big hands splayed out on her bare flesh under her shirt, and every sane thought left her mind as a tsunami of raging desire took over her body. With one tug, she undid the pearl snaps on his shirt and ran her hands across the hard muscles on his chest and abs.
“You are getting pretty good at undoing my shirt,” he whispered.
“Yes, I am. I love the way those snaps pop and reveal that big broad chest,” she said.
Sugar whimpered when they landed on the bed and took off in a trot into the kitchen. Trace pulled the door shut with one hand without stopping the steaming-hot kisses.
Time stood still, and Trace felt like he and Gemma were the only two people in the whole world. Afterward, they were both panting, and she buried her face in his shoulder. “Is this going to last, Trace, or am I just a fling?”
He buried his face into her hair. “You are an angel like Josh sings about and, darlin’, this is whatever you want it to be.”
“Trace Coleman, I’ve got you fooled. All my hair isn’t covering up a halo. It’s hiding horns,” she said.
“Gemma, you said my name. You didn’t call me ‘cowboy’!” he said between pants.
“I did, didn’t I?” She laughed. “Rolls off the tongue right well.”
“Say it again.”
“Trace…Coleman,” she whispered seductively into his ear.
“God, that’s so sexy,” he said.
“And that’s a corny line,” she told him.
“Well, try this one on for size. You are sexy even in your socks, and you are beautiful even with your hair all mussed up,” he said.
“You are sexy with one sock on and one off and all sweaty in tangled-up sheets,” she whispered.
He sucked in air to say something, but a hard knock on the trailer door brought him to a sudden sitting position.
He threw his legs over the side of the bed, grabbed a pair of plaid pajama bottoms, jerked them on, and opened the door. Sugar bounded up the stairs and into the bed, turned around three times on his pillow, and lay down, her big eyes staring right at Gemma.
Moonlight silhouetted Trace in the doorway. Gemma sat up for a better view of him standing there, shirtless and his pajama bottoms riding low on his hips. But she couldn’t see well enough, so she grabbed the top sheet, wrapped it around her, and tucked the ends under her arm. She stepped around the corner out into the kitchen to see three young women circling the steps below him like coyotes after a roadkill possum, all giggling and pointing one to the other.
One woman stepped out away from the others. “I drew the long straw, so I get to be the one since you don’t want a group party. But I’m telling you we could have a hell of a foursome if you’re willing.”
Her words were slurred. Her hair was that shade of blond that comes from a bottle. She wore skintight shorts, a skimpy halter, and cowboy boots. Her face looked like she’d been ridden hard and put away wet too many times.
Trace shook his head and chuckled. “No thanks, ladies.”
“You sure, honey? We promise to give you a ride even wilder than that bronc did tonight,” the one with platinum hair said.
“Good night, ladies.” He started to shut the door.
The last one stuck her foot in it. “I got a message for you since you don’t want to play ride ’em, cowboy with us tonight. Ava says hello and she’s got a surprise for you. Says she’ll give it to you in Lovington, New Mexico.”
“And what is this big surprise?” Trace asked.
“Can’t tell you now, but it’s goin’ to blow your world apart.” The redhead laughed and backed away from the door. “Okay, girls, we’ve bombed out. Let’s go back to the bar and see who is left.”
Trace shut the door and leaned on the back side. “Guess you heard that?”
“I did,” Gemma answered.
“Ava was my one big journey into the groupie world. It happened last year, and it lasted one weekend. And she wasn’t even a groupie. She just came to a rodeo to see if cowboys were all she’d heard they could be. After one weekend, she went on her way, and I have not heard a word from her since until tonight.”
“Thank you, Trace,” Gemma said. “You don’t owe me explanations about your past, but I appreciate that. Come on back to bed and let’s get some sleep.”
He drew her into his arms and shut his eyes. Any other woman would have thrown a fit and left him to sleep alone. He really had an angel in his arms just like Josh sang about.
***
Trace and Sugar were gone when she awoke at seven o’clock the next morning, but he’d left a pot of coffee on the counter. She wanted to be mad about Ava, but she couldn’t. Gemma had a past too. She’d lived with her last boyfriend before they’d had the fight of the century and she’d moved out. So, what right did she have to be mad because Trace had a past?
“But jealousy is different than anger,” she muttered as she crawled out of bed, put on his shirt, and headed to the kitchen area. She poured a cup of coffee and drank it as she pulled her cell phone from her purse. She dialed the beauty shop number in Ringgold, and Noreen picked up on the first ring. “Hi, Gemma! You ready to sell me this shop yet?”
“Nope,” Gemma answered. “I can’t wait to get home and back into the business. I don’t know whatever made me think I was cut out to be a rambler. I miss my roots.”
Noreen laughed. “Maybe winning money hand over fist will make you change your mind. I heard that you whupped the boys last night.”
“I did, but that don’t mean I’ll change my mind about home,” Gemma said.
“I’ve got lots of gossip. Got time to spill some tea?”
“I’m withering up and dying from lack of it,” Gemma said with half a giggle.
“Okay, Lucy and Tyson went to the courthouse and got married Monday morning,” Noreen said.
“What!” Gemma gasped. “And she didn’t even call me. Did she wear a pretty dress and have flowers and a cake afterwards?”
“Jasmine and Ace went with them. Guess Tyson is moving into her trailer out on the ranch, and they’re going to keep working there as usual. I love that woman. She’s my savior. And yes, she wore a pretty blue sundress, and Jasmine made sure she had white roses in her bouquet, and Tyson was real handsome in his Sunday suit. And you knew that Jasmine and Ace are expecting a baby?”
“I got that news already, and I’m still mad at Liz for getting my cards and hers all mixed up,” Gemma declared.
“Here comes Slade’s aunt and granny, so I’ve got to go. You think real hard about selling me this business. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life, and I think I could get a banker to float me a loan,” Noreen said before she hung up.
Lucy had appeared at the Longhorn Inn a couple of years before, right after Pearl inherited it, and Noreen Featherstone was another of Lucy’s “rescues.” She had been on the run from an abusive husband and Pearl hired her to work at the inn. Before long Lucy had formed a group somewhat like Alcoholics Anonymous, only for abused women, and she was still running it. The woman worked like an employment agency as well as a counselor. When Gemma first started talking about doing the rodeo rounds, Lucy knew about a hairdresser looking for a job. So, she and Noreen made a deal, and now she was fixing hair and hearing all the local gossip in Ringgold while Gemma busted broncs.
“I don’t want to wait years and years. I want a baby now and I want a husband to hold me. I want one who’ll think I’m the queen of the universe,” Gemma grumbled out loud. “I want my cowboy, and I want a baby, and it ain’t happenin’ by Christmas this year because it ain’t possible. I’m out here busting my butt for a title when I should be back home chasing cowboys.”
Her phone rang and she pushed the answer button.
“Gemma, guess what? Me and Tyson got married. I would have called you sooner, but he planned a little three-day honeymoon. We flew to South Padre and had a cabin right on the water and it was fantastic,” Lucy said.
“Noreen just told me,” Gemma answered.
“Oops!” Lucy giggled.
“So, tell me all about it,” Gemma said.
“I’m in love. I mean I’m really in love.” Lucy sighed. “I was married before, but I didn’t even know this kind of thing existed. If you ever find it, grab hold with both hands and don’t let go. Words don’t even describe what I’ve got with Tyson. We are so happy, and we’ve decided to stay right here on the ranch in my trailer for now, but later on Jasmine and Ace said we could build a small house anywhere we want. We’ve been looking around, trying to decide where to put it.”
Gemma sighed. “I’m happy for you, Lucy. I really am. You aren’t going to stop your abused women meetings, are you?”
“There will always be abused women who need a helping hand. It’s helped me as much or more than it helps them, and Tyson doesn’t want me to quit my work. Got to go now. My chocolate cake is due to come out of the oven, and Tyson will be home any minute for a midmorning break.”
Gemma groaned as the phone went dead. “Home cooking! I’d do murder for a chunk of Lucy’s chocolate cake.”
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Trace drawled as he and Sugar came inside. “What’s that about doing murder? Am I in trouble?”
“No, you aren’t in trouble. I just talked to the lady who’s leasing my beauty shop and found out my good friend Lucy got married. And then I talked to Lucy and I’m really, really homesick,” she said.
Trace sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are any of your friends and family coming to the finals in Vegas?”
Gemma’s eyes twinkled. “Every one of them, I’m sure. I have three older brothers and I’m the baby sister of the family. Plus, there’s Ace and Wil, who are like brothers since they’re my oldest brother Rye’s best friends. You sure you want to meet them?”
***
The nurse wheeled the baby into Room 312 and the woman pointed at the door. “Take it away. I do not want to see it.”
“But she is so cute. She’s got dark hair and…”
The woman raised her voice. “I said to take it away. I don’t care what it looks like, and I will not touch it. I told the doctor to advise the whole staff not to bring the baby into my room, and I do not want visitors allowed in my room either. So go!”
The nurse wheeled the clear bassinet out into the hallway.
“Still not interested in seeing your new baby?” Dr. Joyce peeked into the room.
“I am not,” the woman said.
Dr. Joyce shut the door.
The nurse shook her head. “Help me to understand, Doc. How can a mother carry a baby for nine months and not want it? This isn’t a rape case, is it?”
“No, but it was like a one-night stand, from what I gather. She didn’t ever want children and her contraceptive failed.”
“We going to keep her here and put her up for adoption?” the nurse asked.
Dr. Joyce shook her head. “She has hired a nanny who will take the baby with her, and then she says that she has plans for the child. Who knows? Maybe the nanny can help her change her mind.”
“I don’t think so. She looks pretty determined. Who is she?” the nurse asked.
“A very determined woman who does not want children.”