Chapter Eight #3
“I can imagine. Don’t apologize. Just tell me what you’re doing here. I thought you’d be with your father.”
Hayden took a deep breath. “I rented a plane at the airport and flew to Gallup. I got there too late. My dad had already passed. I knew how much he’d wanted to see me compete, so I decided to do it as a tribute.
I made some calls—contacted a few friends and his lawyer and arranged for his transport to the funeral home in Wichita Falls.
Then I turned around and flew back to Vegas.
I got here just in time to saddle up for the competition. ”
“And you won. Congratulations, even though I’m sure your victory was bittersweet. I’m so sorry about your father. I never met the man, but I’ve heard good things about him.” Cheynne remembered Roper’s praise for Chet Barr—and she remembered that she needed to call her brother.
“The victory was more sweet than bitter. Wanting to beat Buck Tolson has driven me for as long as I’ve been competing. Now that buckle will finally be mine. The award ceremony will be starting soon, with a party and concert afterward. Are you coming?”
His question caught Cheyenne off guard. “I don’t know,” she said. “I hadn’t even thought about it. Maybe I’d better—”
“You’ve got to come!” Hayden grabbed her hand. “I want you right there, front and center when I get that buckle and the check. Then, pretty lady, I want to show you off at the party. Come on, it’s almost time to start!”
He swept her into the flowing crowd, the momentum carrying them toward the festival stage.
Cheyenne had little choice except to grip Hayden’s hand and follow his lead.
She could only hope to make a fast escape after the award ceremony.
She wasn’t in the mood for the party that would follow, and she needed to connect with Roper.
As the throng moved her past the entrance to the barn, Cheyenne glimpsed a tall figure standing in a doorway, keeping clear of the crowd. For an instant, his gaze locked with hers across the distance. Then the river of people carried her past him. When she looked back, Buck was gone.
In the waiting room of the ER, Roper took a few minutes to check his phone. There were several voice messages from Cheyenne, clearly worried, asking why he hadn’t shown up at the cutting event. He needed to call her.
Finding a quiet alcove, he scrolled to her number. She answered on the first ring.
“Roper! Thank heaven!” He could hear noisy music in the background. “Where are you? Are you all right?”
“I’m at the hospital. No—no, I’m fine. It’s Lila’s daughter, Gemma. She was found unconscious in a stairwell at the hotel. Somebody put her out with chloroform.”
“What?” She spoke up to be heard over the music. “Oh, no! Will she be okay?”
“She’s awake but still groggy. They’ve got her on oxygen and some kind of IV drip. The doctor says she’ll be all right in a day or two. One of the cleaners found her. They got the room key off her and called her mother. Lila’s with her now. You can imagine she’s pretty upset.”
“But who would do such a thing?”
“We’ve got our suspicions. Sam is on his way here to question her.” Roper paused. “Where are you? What’s all that noise I can hear?”
“I’m at the buckle ceremony for Hayden. He showed up at the last minute and won the cutting event. Now it’s party time.”
“But—Hayden? I thought he left. What about his father?”
“His father had already passed when Hayden got there. He decided to fly back here and compete as a tribute. Now that the award ceremony is done, I’m just getting out of here. The party’s already getting too wild for me. Where can I find you?”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Lila wants to stay with her daughter, and she’s going to need some support. I can be here. There’s nothing scheduled for tomorrow but the Shootout.”
“I can look after One in a Million for you.”
“Thanks, but I can manage that. You’ll have your hands full when Mother gets here tomorrow.”
She groaned. “Don’t remind me. She said she planned to stay in the room, which is fine, except that she’ll want me to stay with her.”
“All the more reason to kick up your heels and have fun tonight. I know Hayden will be mourning his father, but the prestige that goes with winning a big event, along with the money, should at least give him something to celebrate.”
“We’ll see about that.” Roper sensed the lack of excitement in her voice. Maybe things had cooled with Hayden.
“As long as I’m here, at least let me check on your horses tonight,” she said. “That way you can spend all the time you need to with Lila.”
“Thanks,” Roper said. “Make sure they have feed and water. You can call me if you notice anything that seems off to you.” Glancing back into the waiting room, he saw Sam walk in. “I’ve got to go. Have fun. That’s an order.”
Her laugh sounded strained. “You know how I feel about taking orders. Give my best to Lila and her daughter. Maybe we can meet when this mess is behind us—with or without Mother’s approval.”
“Thanks, Little Sis.” Roper ended the call and hurried to meet Sam.
The party was ramping up. Hayden, surrounded by well-wishers, was already on his third Michelob. Cheyenne had seen enough rodeo parties to know that she didn’t care to stay. The horses would give her an excuse to get away from the noise and the drinking.
When she failed to get Hayden’s attention, she found a cowboy she knew and asked him to pass on the message that she was leaving to check on her brother’s horses.
Then she slipped out through a side door.
Hayden wouldn’t be pleased, but he had plenty of friends to keep him company. He might not even miss her.
The lights in the barn were low, the horses stirring and chuffing as they settled for the night. The familiar scent of fresh manure mellowed the machine-cooled air.
Cheyenne knew her way to One in a Million’s stall. The great roan stallion nickered and peered over the gate as she approached.
“Hello, big boy,” she said. “Are you lonesome?”
The stallion chuffed and lowered his head, allowing her to reach up and stroke his face. His skin was like warm satin. According to Roper, he was much calmer now. But it remained to be seen whether he’d be ready to perform in the Run for a Million on Saturday, two nights from now.
“Have you got hay and water, boy?”
A five-gallon plastic pail stood outside the stall.
Cheyenne was petite. But by turning it over and standing on it, she could see over the gate.
If the horse had needed anything, she wouldn’t have been afraid to go into his stall.
But she could see his water bucket and hay feeder.
Roper had left him well supplied. She continued stroking him.
“Are you going to be our Saturday-night hero? Or is that too much to ask after what you’ve been through. How’s your buddy next door doing, hmm?”
From Fire Dance’s stall, there was nothing but silence. Cheyenne strained her ears and listened for the slightest movement, even the sound of breathing. She heard nothing.
She knew better than to open the gate. But she had to know whether the traumatized stallion was even alive.
She moved the bucket and stood on it. Now she could see over the gate.
But the stall was in full shadow. There was still no movement.
No sound. She stretched on tiptoe, leaning a little over the top edge of the gate.
The dark silence exploded in screaming fury as Fire Dance lunged out of the shadows.
Rearing, the powerful stallion leaped at the gate, his teeth catching the faint light, his front hooves kicking and flailing.
Something skimmed Cheyenne’s head. The pail toppled away beneath her feet. She pitched backward.
The arms that broke her fall were as unexpected as the stallion’s attack had been.
“You’re all right, Cheyenne. I’ve got you.”
The voice that spoke, almost in her ear, was Buck’s.