Chapter 14
“They’re gonna let me go home today,” Jensen said when Shyanna stepped into the room with the bag from the fast food place. He’d been there two days and that was long enough. “Oh, god, give me that stuff. Their food is terrible here.”
“Typical hospital food,” she said with a laugh and handed him the bag.
He tore it open, pulled out a wrapped breakfast sandwich, and almost ate it paper and all.
“Oh, god, this is good,” he moaned as he ate.
“By the way, the cops came by here. They found Max and that Bergman guy surrounded by a bunch of drugs, and there was a note about Max dumping me on the side of the highway. It was signed ‘a concerned citizen.’” He’d gotten down two bites when there was a knock on the door, and they both looked up to see a somewhat-familiar-looking face. “Yeah? Can we help you?” Jensen asked.
“Do you recognize me?” the man asked with a grin.
“Yeah, but I can’t figure out―”
“I’m Walt Coopman. Chair of the board of the USPCA. I wanted to come by to talk to you, Mr. Strader.”
Jensen sat up as straight as the bed would allow. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”
“Mind?” Mr. Coopman asked and pointed to an empty chair.
“Not at all. Help yourself,” Jensen answered and took another bite of his sandwich.
“Thank you.” Settling into the vinyl, Mr. Coopman smiled.
“First off, let me tell you how sorry I am for everything that’s happened to both of you.
The board had no idea what was going on or we would’ve stepped in.
Regardless what they and everyone else thought, the USPCA was not owned by Gresham and Fuller.
It’s a non-profit organization and, as such, it’s governed by a board of directors, of which I’m the chairman.
They conveniently left us out of the loop about a lot of things.
It appears one of those things was an illegal contract they were being pressured to sign with Zesser Pharmaceuticals to make them the exclusive pharma provider for our association.
That would’ve left a lot of people without medicines for their animals while they were at our events.
The board would never have approved.” He hesitated, then said, “And it’s come to our attention that the contract was just a front for illegal drug activity being perpetrated by Max Barlow and a pharmaceuticals rep from Zesser.
Apparently the company knew about the contract and encouraged it, but they didn’t know about the stolen drugs being sold by Max and Jimmy Fuller at the events.
Well, technically, Jimmy didn’t sell them.
He just took a cut of the money,” Mr. Coopman said, shaking his head.
“And you know all of this how?” Jensen asked.
“Well, oddly enough, Jimmy Fuller was found bound in duct tape in Gresham’s trailer, and he told the cops all about Barlow and this Wallace Bergman character.
And somebody called in a tip to the cops to let them know that Barlow and Bergman were tied up in a motel room with a couple hundred boxes of illegal drugs.
” Jensen tried to hide a grin when he heard Shyanna choke across the room.
“And by the way, Miss Owens,” Mr. Coopman added, “they said you held them at gunpoint, but Amos Hartley said they were lying and it was him. So you’re off the hook for that and, under the circumstances, no charges are being brought against Hartley either. ”
“Appreciate that, Mr. Coopman,” Shyanna said with a nod.
“Also, Max Barlow admitted to injecting your horse with cocaine. Seems they found some in the motel room, and he swears he wasn’t dealing it, just using it for that purpose.
Which is no less despicable, but at least he hasn’t hurt countless other people with it.
” Mr. Coopman pulled out a bandana and wiped his brow.
“My, my, my, that sumbitch was a busy motherfucker. Oh, sorry, Miss Owens,” he said, blushing.
“No problem. He was a busy motherfucker, Mr. Coopman. If he’d been using all that energy for good, just think of all the great things he could’ve done,” she said with the appropriate amount of snark.
Mr. Coopman nodded, then turned his attention to Jensen. “No shit. So, anyway, I wanted to come and tell you all that, but there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Our association is going to need a new president.”
“Yes, sir, I suppose so. I’d say Stag Hendricks, but he’s leaving.
Gonna get married and have a baby, so he won’t be with us anymore,” Jensen said.
“And there’s Amos, but he’s a little young.
Oh, yeah, Calvin Waters would be a good choice, or Richard Adams, or Brian Collins.
Or there’s this other guy, I think his name is―”
“Stop, Mr. Strader,” Mr. Coopman said, holding up a hand. “The board’s discussed it. They want you.”
Jensen thought he’d heard wrong. “Me? Did you say me?”
“Yes, sir. I did. You’re honest and dependable.
You stood up for Miss Owens when others wouldn’t, and we like that.
We need more members, and if word gets out that women are welcome in our association, we’ll get more.
Hell, some husband and wife teams would be great.
Plus you have a Master’s degree and you were well-respected in the academic community, which could help us attract collegiate athletes. So whaddya say? You up to it?”
Jensen sat there, stunned. “I, um, I haven’t, uh, can I―”
“Take some time to think about it. You can let me know in two days. Until then, I hope you’ll consider it.
” Mr. Coopman stood. “You’re a fine cowboy and a fine man.
We’d be lucky to have you at the helm, to carry our traditions and to help make some new ones.
Take care of yourself and get the hell out of here.
Hospitals kill people,” he said with a laugh.
Jensen was so stunned that he couldn’t even manage a smile. “Yes, sir. I want to. Get out of here, that is. Thank you, sir, and I’ll think about it, I promise.”
“Good. Good day to you, and to you too, Miss Owens,” he said, nodding to Shyanna before he set his Stetson back on his head and moseyed out of the room.
“Holy hell, Jensen, they want you as the association president!” Shyanna cooed.
He sat there for a couple of minutes, thinking about it.
That would mean he couldn’t compete anymore, and he loved competing, but he’d still be around all the cowboys, horses, and cattle.
It would mean paperwork, but that paperwork wouldn’t be nearly as hard as making up tests and grading papers, and he’d done that while he taught at the university.
His mind was racing when Shyanna said, “Jensen?”
“Yeah?”
She took one of his hands and held it in both of hers. “Listen, I really think you should consider this. I mean, we’re not old, but you’re no kid either, and rodeo is hard on our bodies. Maybe this is your out. Maybe this is the way you can do what you love without all the risks.”
“So you think I should take it?” he asked, and she nodded. Sitting there for a few more seconds, he got an idea. “Okay. I’ll do it, but only under three conditions.”
She frowned as her brow dropped. “Okay. Name ’em.”
“One, you marry me.” Shyanna’s mouth dropped open. “Two, you ride one more season and you quit.”
“But Jensen―” she started, but he cut her off.
“Because, three, I wanna have kids and we’re not gonna be able to do that much longer. Now’s the time. If you want me to walk away from rough stock, I want you to walk away from it too, but for a good reason.”
“But Jensen―”
“But what, Shy?” he groused.
“But you ruined everything. I was going to propose to you tonight when you got out of here and we could go back to the trailer. And you ruined it all! I swear, cowboy, you’re irritating as hell sometimes,” she said with a laugh and ruffled his hair.
“Does that mean you’ll meet my demands?” he said with a wink and a grin.
“Looks like you’ve given me no choice, seeing as how you stole my thunder,” she said, pretending to be angry.
“Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Out there on the side of that road, did you tell me you love me?”
He could tell she was fighting tears when she sat up straight and, in her most authoritative tone, said, “Why, yes, Jensen Strader, I did.”
“Good. I was afraid I’d hallucinated that,” he said and snickered.
“Nope. You heard right. I love you. I was terrified I’d lost you. And I never, never believed for a minute that you’d just walked away and left me.”
He side-eyed her. “Never?”
“Well, okay,” she singsonged, “maybe for a half second, but that was it. Let’s just say it passed through my mind, but it kept on a-going and didn’t squat for the night.”
“Good. Because I didn’t. And I wouldn’t. And I never, ever will. Ever.” His eyes went round. “Oh, shit! Who’s taking care of the horses?”
“Relax. Amber and Amos are. SammyJo and Gretchen are helping them. It’s all under control.”
“The girls have to get back to school soon,” Jensen reminded her.
“Yeah, but I don’t know how Amber’s going to finish. Seems there’s this cowboy we know, and she’s kinda head over heels for him, and he’s kinda head over heels for her, and―”
“Yeah, yeah. That was hard to miss. And SammyJo?”
“She and Gretchen are going to make it, I do believe. Gretchen wants to go back to school, so I think they’ll wind up together on campus.”
“Very nice. I like it,” Jensen said. He was smiling so widely that his face hurt, and he didn’t even care. He had something to smile about.
He had a lot of things to smile about.
“Was that who I think it was?”
Jensen nodded. “Yep. District attorney. My name is clear.”
Shyanna blew out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank god.”
“There’s something else I need to talk to you about,” he said and reached for her hand. As soon as she was seated, he leveled his gaze with hers. “Shy, while all this was going on, I talked to the district attorney about your conviction.”
“Why?”