Chapter 16
Rusty’s head swiveled in the direction of the bar, and Kristy followed the direction of his gaze. A pretty woman about the same age as Kristy walked toward them. She wore cutoffs, a tank top stretched across a well-endowed chest, and cowgirl boots. Large hoop earrings dangled from her ears, and a cascade of blond hair fell over her shoulders. Her eyes were painted with eyeliner, her lashes looked fake, and her lips were ruby red, but despite the heavily applied makeup, she still looked attractive.
“Tamara Lynn,” Rusty said, a big old smile gracing his face. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes light up.
“I haven’t seen you around lately. What’ve you been doing with yourself?” She looked pointedly in Kristy’s direction. “Keeping busy, I see?”
“Somewhat…”
Tamara stuck out her hand. “Tamara Blake.”
Kristy shook it. Her hand felt rough. This woman worked. “Kristy Winslow.”
“Pleased to meet you. You new around here?”
“She just moved here from Cheyenne. She’s with the event company for Boots and Bells.” Rusty jumped in to answer.
“Is that right?” Tamara looked her up and down. “Heard about the bachelor auction.”
“It’s also including bachelorettes.” Maybe she could get another woman to sign up.
Tamara had already turned her attention back to Rusty. “You signed up?”
“Reluctantly.”
Tamara smiled at Rusty. “Well good. I’ll be looking forward to the auction.”
“You could enter too. We need a few more women to sign up.” It was worth a shot.
Tamara shook her head but was still looking at Rusty. “Not thanks. I heard Greta Hutchins has entered. No way am I competing with that.”
“It’s all for a good cause.”
“I’d rather donate to the good cause by bidding, thank you very much.” Tamara reached over and grabbed Rusty’s mug and took a swig. Then set it back down on the table. “Bet Stetson will be saving up his money.”
Rusty had the good grace to look uncomfortable with the liberties this woman had taken. In front of Kristy, no less. “Believe so. Well, nice catching up, Tamara.”
Tamara looked from Kristy to Rusty, a big smile on her face. “See you around, cowboy.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek before sashaying away.
Kristy felt heat rise up her neck. Perspiration dampened it. What was that woman doing to her boyfriend, in front of her?
Boyfriend . There was that word again.
With that, Charlene appeared with their meals and set the plates on the table, plopping down a bottle of ketchup as well. “Anything else?”
The delicious smoky smell filled the air.
“Not at the moment.” Rusty answered for both of them.
“Sorry about that,” he said when Charlene was out of earshot.
“Who exactly is she?” The woman had been pretty familiar with Rusty. “An old girlfriend?”
“Very old. Not her.” He chuckled as he dumped ketchup on his burger and fries. “But a lot of years ago. Before I went into service. I was just eighteen when we sort of broke up.”
“Sort of?”
He shook his head, and his face flushed. “Definitely broke up.”
“Let me guess. It was her idea?”
Rusty sighed. “Yup. And every time I see her, I feel I dodged a bullet.”
“She seems pretty chummy for an ex.”
“She’s known it has been over for a long time. A decade now. We’re just friends. Besides, my sister Lexi would disown me as her brother if I ever started dating Tamara again.”
And there was no dissing Rusty’s family. “You want to tell me about it?”
He looked directly at her and pointed the burger grasped in his hand at her. “No.”
“You want to tell me about Greta and Stetson, then? By the way, I had no idea women would not want to participate in the bail out of jail because Greta was in it.”
“Me either.” He took a bite of his hamburger.
She took a bite of hers. The salty, tomato, and tangy taste overwhelmed her senses. “This is so good,” she said after she swallowed.
“The best.”
“So Greta and Stetson?” She’d let Tamara slide. For now.
“Greta was only seventeen when Stetson rescued her from an electrical fire in her family’s house. But he was smitten immediately. Problem was, he was almost twenty-three at the time, and she was seventeen—no way were her parents going to let her date him. She must be around twenty-three now, and Stetson is twenty-nine, so that difference doesn’t seem like much, but back then, she was underage. Besides, I think her parents wanted Greta to have the opportunity to go to New York for a modeling career, so they were not about to let their daughter date anyone.”
“From the way you talk, I take it Stetson hasn’t forgotten her?”
“Hardly. But I don’t know how he’ll take the fact she’s coming back. I don’t think she’s been back here since she left for New York. And I don’t think they’ve been in touch either.”
“Well, he’ll have a chance to bid for a dance with her at least.” That should be interesting.
“I bet he’ll take out a loan if he has to, in order to win that bid.”
“That will be good for the charity, but maybe not so good for Stetson. He’s really got it that bad for her?”
“He hasn’t seriously dated anyone for over five years, so that should tell you something.”
“Long time to carry a torch for someone you never really had a relationship with.”
“If you know Stetson, it’s not all that surprising.”
“Guess he’s definitely going to renege on being a bachelor.”
“I think he’d want to be sure he was free to dance with her. Hope the bid won’t bankrupt him.”
“Surely not that. It’s a local auction. Bids aren’t going that high.”
“You have some rich suits from the energy industry coming to this thing. They’re the reason this fundraiser raises decent money. So no telling what will happen.”
“I hope it works out for Stetson, because it sounds like a sweet love story in the making.”
Rusty leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Love to see that romantic side of you.”
She felt her cheeks heat. Sadly, it had been a very long time since she’d been in touch with her romantic side.
***
“So you’ve never been to a ranch rodeo, and you say you’re from Wyoming?” Rusty tapped her nose as they stood by the entrance to the small arena that was part of the convention center complex. He had come to meet her when she’d texted him she had arrived.
The sky was a beautiful pale blue, dotted with fluffy clouds and centered by the bright sun. Kristy should have been going over vendor contracts and timelines, but it was a picture-perfect Sunday and she’d wanted to come. She’d stay for his events and then leave, but it might be hard to do on such a lovely day.
“I’ve been to regular rodeos.”
“Considering the mother of all rodeos is in Cheyenne, I would hope so,” Rusty teased. “But you’ve never seen a penning competition, or wild-cow milking, or doctoring?”
Kristy had to laugh. “I’ve seen a rancher pen a calf, but not in a competition.”
“Well, fasten your buckle, because you’re in for a treat.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked through the crowd milling about. This certainly didn’t draw like Frontier Days in Cheyenne, which was a weeklong mass of elbow-to-elbow people.
Though Rusty said he wasn’t into ranching, he certainly seemed to be, based on the excitement she saw in his face as they made their way into the stands.
“This isn’t a big one, more county fair than anything. But I’ll get you settled and then head down to the contestant area. Mom and Dad are in the stands with Parker. Junie’s working. Cort and Lexi are competing.”
“Lexi’s competing?”
“Just in the doctoring event. She’s quite the cowgirl. Hard to believe she once was a banker.”
“And you’re doing the penning?”
“And maybe one or two more.”
She glanced down at the single sheet of paper in her hand, which listed the events. She figured that “penning” was cutting cattle out of a herd, but she couldn’t wait to see wild-cow milking and doctoring. However, there was one event she was worried about. “You’re not competing in bronc riding, are you?”
“I’ll leave that to the younger guys.”
As she walked with Rusty, heads turned, many people nodded, and some thanked him for his service. He was well known in these parts and, apparently, well liked. She felt a swell of pride being with him.
The plastic-and-metal bleachers were weathered but serviceable and filling up now that the events were about to begin.
As they climbed, she saw Jewel first, then Ian, both decked out in long-sleeved western shirts and jeans despite the warm temperatures, and then a child that must be Parker. He was licking a scoop of chocolate ice cream that sat on a cone. Rusty had spotted them too, and he steered her toward them.
Jewel and Ian rose when she and Rusty entered the row, and little Parker slid off his seat to stand beside his grandparents.
“Glad you could make it.” Jewel’s greeting sounded sincere. “And this here is our grandson, Parker. Junie’s boy.”
Kristy bent and offered her hand. The little tyke shifted his cone to his other hand and firmly shook Kristy’s. He had on a pint-sized cowboy hat, cowboy boots, jeans, and a short-sleeved shirt. Guess he was auditioning for the cowboy role.
“Glad I could too, and pleased to meet you, Parker.”
The little boy remained standing, polishing off the last remnants of the cone.
“Ariel coming?” Jewel asked.
Kristy nodded. “She’s coming with Mel.” She turned toward Rusty. “He’s part of your team in the penning event, right?”
“Sure is. After ten years away, I’m the most inexpert-ienced one. But back in the day, I held my own. Reckon I will again.” He didn’t sound boastful, just matter of fact.
Jewel patted her son’s arm. “You’ll be fine. Cow sense doesn’t leave you. And you’ve worked the herd since you’ve been back.”
“Can’t wait.”
The eagerness in his voice made Kristy smile.
He leaned down and planted a kiss on her, as if he were leaving for a week, waved at Parker, and left.
“Penning is first. And sets the tone for the rest of the events,” Jewel said, as she wiped some chocolate from Parker’s face.
“I’m eager to see Rusty in action. I’ve been on a ride with him, but I never saw him actually ranching.” She sat on the vacant seat next to Jewel.
“He’s a natural. Comes by it honestly.” Ian said it with pride as he sat back down.
So why didn’t he want to be a rancher? There had to be more to it than Rusty was letting on. But she brushed away that thought to focus on the arena.
With that, Ariel plopped down beside her.
Kristy checked her watch. A whole five minutes to spare. “You made it.”
“You know Mel.”
Actually, Kristy didn’t, not much, anyway.
“He’s never in a hurry, but he gets it done,” Ariel said.
Reminded Kristy of Ariel.
“It will be fun to watch them work together.” Ariel gestured toward the arena.
Jewel nodded. “It’s Cort, their foreman John, Mel, and Rusty for the penning. A few other ranch hands will cycle in and out, depending on the event.”
“What horse is Rusty riding?”
“He’s on his sister’s horse, Misty.”
“Not Sheba?” Kristy had a fondness for the horse she’d ridden.
“Sheba has been in many a ranch rodeo, but she’s lost a step or two. Like me,” Ian said.
“I can’t wait to see Mel milk a wild cow,” Ariel said. “Is Rusty competing in that too?”
Kristy shrugged. “He only admitted to penning.”
“Then it will be a surprise,” Jewel said.
The McClane ranch was up sixth out of twelve teams, so there was plenty of time for Kristy to enjoy the show and learn what penning was all about. She watched several of the teams before she got the gist of it. “Is Rusty the cutter or one of the penning horsemen?” she finally asked.
“Penning. John is actually the cutter. Used to be my role when we competed,” Ian said.
“And no one did it better.” Jewel smiled at her husband and patted his leg. “Time for the youngsters to give it a go.”
“I know. But I miss it.”
“You still do it on the ranch with the hands when you’re up here.”
“Not the same as competing.”
“But they appreciate your help.”
“Still got it,” Ian said with emphasis.
“You do at that.”
The announcer called the McClane ranch, and four horses carrying handsome cowboys trotted out. Parker jumped to his feet and clapped as he recognized his uncles.
The announcer babbled out the number “9,” which meant, Kristy had learned, the cutter had to separate the three cows that had a 9 on their collars, from a herd of thirty, while the other cowboys assured that those cut out went to the other end of the arena, where the pen was, and no errant cow got mixed in. Once all three with the same number had been separated from the herd and were down at the far end, all four cowboys moved to that end to herd them into the open pen there.
The horses and riders had to be able to stop on a dime, pivot as needed to contain a cow, and nudge the three yearlings into the pen without letting them break away and join the larger herd at the other end.
The foreman began weaving through the herd, looking for the number on the cow. The horse bobbed and weaved to its own tune before finding one with a 9. That cow was cut from the herd and headed toward the end with the pen enclosure. Rusty was on the side closest to their seats, and Kristy couldn’t take her eyes off him as he reined Misty to and fro.
“I can’t see,” Parker wailed.
“Do you want to sit on my lap?” Kristy asked. It had been a long time since she’d been around kids. Over ten years since she last babysat a child. Looking at Parker’s sweet face, she realized how much she missed being around children.
Parker nodded and climbed up on her lap. He sat down squarely on her, his feet straddling her legs as he looked out on the arena to take in the action. It felt comfortable and right to have his weight on her.
She was lulled out of her contemplations when some whoops from the arena commanded her attention. The foreman had to do a bit more maneuvering to separate out the second yearling, but it too headed for the far end, while the three other penning cowboys stood sentry, assuring that no other cow joined the number 9 yearling. With that, the last cow was cut, and all four cowboys turned their horses to the far end and rode down.
“Now the fun begins,” Ian said.
It was amusing how the cows had minds of their own. One in particular was not having any of it and several times had tried to head for the herd at the other end. Rusty was the one who was slowly moving them around the back of the pen and the side, in hopes that they would slide into the pen opening. Mel was charged with keeping the three yearlings from slipping past the pen and heading for open ground.
Two slipped into the pen opening, but the errant cow tried to dodge and squeeze past Mel’s horse. A quick pivot by rider and horse and the yearling relented, following his brethren into the pen. A score of 59.5 flashed up on the screen.
“Woo-hoo,” Ian shouted. “They’ll be in the money.”
Parker clapped. “Down?” he asked. Apparently, now that his uncles were done, so was he.
She helped him slide off and instantly felt the loss.
“They do this for money?” Kristy asked as Parker scooted back to his seat next to his grandmother.
Jewel smiled as she helped Parker back onto his seat. “Just dinner money, really. Mostly, you do it for bragging rights.”
Kristy watched Rusty and the group trot off. She shouldn’t ask, but she couldn’t resist saying something. “Rusty seems really good at ranching. It’s surprising he never wanted to be a rancher.”
Ian clamped his mouth shut. Jewel frowned.
“You’ll have to ask Rusty about that,” Jewel finally said.
Rusty did not compete in the wild-cow milking, but he did rope in the doctoring event, which was a chaotic mad scramble. Parker had once again climbed onto Kristy’s lap to watch, and as soon as the McClane ranch was done, he climbed back down. She felt honored that he felt comfortable with her.
In fact, Kristy had enjoyed the rodeo so much, she didn’t even think of leaving until Rusty appeared at the end of the row and sidled in to join her. Ariel scooted over one seat so Rusty could sit next to her.
“What did you think?” After getting congratulations from his parents and Parker, he leaned over and pecked Kristy’s cheek.
“That you’re really good at ranching.”
Rusty smiled. “Nice to place in the money. Cort’s happy.” He dug his hands into his pocket. “If you’re hungry, we should get something before the last event, ’cause they’ll be closing up.”
“I could use a coffee.”
“Anybody else want anything?”
“Ice cream.” Parker looked hopeful.
“You’ve had enough, young man,” Jewel said. “We’ll be home for supper soon, and your mom’s making your favorite—mac and cheese.”
That seemed to mollify Parker some, and he leaned against his grandmother, as if he was tired.
With that, Rusty swept his arm toward her. “Lead the way.”
“I really just wanted to be alone with you,” he said as they climbed down from the bleachers.
She had to laugh as she took in all the folks milling around. “Well, we aren’t exactly alone.”
“But I’d like to find time to get away. Together. Alone.”
Now it was getting real. And instead of wanting to distance herself, she was of the same mind. “Ariel’s usually at my place. She doesn’t exactly enjoy Mel’s trailer.”
“Those trailers are old, cramped, and not in the best shape.”
“I gathered.” She wanted to be with Rusty. Just Rusty. Away from family and friends. To see if this was a relationship worth devoting any more time to. “In a few days it will be all hands on deck, and I won’t have time to get away.”
“And with my parents staying at the old homestead, that’s a definite no for many reasons, including the bunk beds,” Rusty said. “Makes me feel like I’m back in my teen years.”
And then he smiled. “I’ve got an idea. What are you doing Wednesday evening?” He held out his hand as they strolled toward the food stalls
She took it, aware of the strength and warmth in that hand. “Spreadsheets, vendor contracts, making up schedules, and to-do lists.” But after this week it would be even crazier. “But if you’re asking me to make time, the answer is yes.”
“I feel like yelling yippee and throwing my hat up in the air.”
“Don’t you dare.” What would Jewel and Ian think?
They strolled along hand in hand. Kristy wasn’t sure why, but she felt lighter, as if a burden had been removed from her shoulders.
As they passed into the alley that held the kiosks of food and wares, Kristy spotted a young couple. It appeared the girl was trying to shrug the guy off, telling him to stop, though she seemed to be laughing.
Before she could figure out what was going on, Rusty had strode over to the couple. Grabbing the guy by the collar, he pulled the offender away from the young woman and held him like he was collaring an errant dog.
The young girl’s mouth dropped open.
“You okay, miss?” Rusty asked as the kid yelled obscenities.
“What are you doing, mister?” Her tone was filled with irritation.
“Keeping him from bothering you.”
“That’s my brother, and he was tickling me. What’s it to you?”
Rusty instantly released the kid. “Sorry.”
The kid yanked his shirt down. “Mind your own business, cowboy.” The kid tried to sound belligerent, but it was clear that though he was angry, he recognized that Rusty was bigger than he was and not someone to pick a fight with.
Rusty held up his hands. “Sorry. I thought he was hurting you.”
The girl turned away and tucked her arm through her brother’s. “Crazy people out here.”
Rusty slunk back to her, his face red, and a frown had replaced the smile. “I was just trying to help.”
“I know but…”
“I should wait until I’m asked. Can’t believe I misread that situation. Didn’t you think she was crying?”
Kristy shrugged. “I thought she was laughing.”
“Guess I should have checked with you first.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and they moved on. “Now about Wednesday…”