Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
B elle watched Lyle climb into bed, then talked to her son about what he’d seen—her holding Aaron’s hand.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she told him.
“It’s okay, Mom.” His mouth crooked at the corner. “Dad’s gone and we have to be brave. I could tell Aaron was your friend.”
“Thanks for understanding.” Belle squeezed his shoulder.
Lyle nodded. He looked like he’d say more, but his eyelids gradually closed. She watched him a moment, a heaviness pressing down on her shoulders. The mess she made of her life was affecting her children, something that made her heart tremble and crumble. She didn’t care what it did to her, but she had to be strong for her children, who were innocent bystanders.
Oh, Lord, please keep Your hand on them and give me strength to lead them and guide them.
Moving to the bedroom door, she felt relief when Lyle’s breathing became slow and rhythmic. Facing her son, she looked at his tousled hair peeking from beneath the sheet. Smothering the ache in her heart, she turned off the light and stepped into the hallway.
How could she have been so careless as to let a weak moment with Aaron make her accept his touch and comfort? She should have moved away when he took her hand. Instead, she’d basked in his serenity that lessened the chaos. Lyle said he understood. Still, she knew better.
Lyle wouldn’t bring it up again. He looked to the future, even if it was questionable. The pang of her disintegrating marriage caught Belle high in the throat. Her marriage would end soon, but the obvious hung in the air—she was still married.
Unbidden came the memory of when she first saw Aaron—at a rodeo competition. Heat racing through her, she’d never forget when she saw his powerful form straddle the chute where a bull bucked and bellowed.
As a teen, she’d been thrilled when her new friends in Sweet Mountain invited her to go with them to watch a bull riding competition. She had seen a movie about bull riding. She was excited to watch one live.
Her mother had gasped when Belle asked if she could go. Clearly, she thought such a pastime inappropriate. Her father laughed, told his wife Belle needed to experience all aspects of life and gave Belle permission.
Sitting in the stands, Belle drank in the excitement of the crowds and the riders. The bulls frightened her a little—they snorted and paced and tossed their massive heads—but her friend, Tiffany, told her everything would be fine.
“This isn’t the Nationals.” Tiffany elbowed Belle when she gasped at a rider being thrown from a bull.
“The Nationals?” Belle blinked.
“Yeah, have you never heard of those?” Tiffany asked in surprise. “Boy, you are sheltered! It’s where all the bull riders want to go, and not just bull riders. The steer wrestlers and the barrel racers compete there, too. Miss Rodeo America is always a guest of honor. I’m going to be Miss Rodeo America someday.”
Belle couldn’t believe she was so na?ve. She’d never heard of the Nationals or steer wrangling or Miss Rodeo America. Tiffany should win the beauty pageant. She was talented and gorgeous.
“Look.” Tifanny pointed at the chute. “Aaron McSweeney’s the next rider. He’s so dreamy.” Tiffany batted her eyelashes.
Belle couldn’t argue, her gaze skimming over his angular jaw and broad shoulders.
Aaron settled on the bull, then gave the nod. He and the bull shot out of the chute. Belle pressed her fingers to her lips. She didn’t dare breathe. Her gaze glued to the strongly built cowboy, she watched his every move.
Then he lifted his head. He stared straight at her.
“Look!” Tiffany exclaimed in surprise. She shoved Belle’s shoulder. “He’s looking at you.”
“No, he isn’t,” Belle said. Still, she wondered. “You can’t know that. We’re too far away.”
“Are you kidding?” Tiffany’s elevated voice made people turn around. She pointed at Aaron and gave a little bounce. “Look at his eyes. He’s staring at you.”
“Keep your voice down.” Belle’s gaze shifted to the spectators. At least, some of them had turned away. Her face heated beneath the stare of the others. Didn’t their parents teach them that staring was rude? “You can’t see his eyes.”
“ I can see his eyes. He’s looking at you .” Tiffany’s mouth firmed.
Belle didn’t argue. She didn’t just see his gaze. She felt it.
“Even if he were looking at me, it doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t know me,” Belle said weakly. “And he’s riding a bull.
“That will change.” Tiffany nodded. “Don’t look so surprised. Guys like that know what they want, and they go for it.”
“What do you mean by ‘guys like that?’” Belle’s pulse raced.
“The guys who know what they want.” Tiffany shrugged. “You’ll see.” She turned to the arena. “Oh, no. Look!” She grabbed Belle’s arm.
Belle jerked her gaze to the arena. The bull leaped and turned. Aaron leaned away. His leg slipping from the bull’s girth, he flew through the air. Tucking into a ball, he hit the arena’s footing. He rolled across the hard ground, then sprang to his feet. His gaze locked on Belle.
Her mouth opened. She couldn’t draw a breath.
The entire arena gasped, then fell into pounding silence.
Belle couldn’t talk. When the bull turned to Aaron, the crowd started shouting. Some rose to their feet while others waved Aaron to run from the bull.
The pickup men and clowns rushed into place. Their moves sharp, they edged between Aaron and the bull. Shouting and whistling, they guided the animal out of the ring.
A couple of cowboys approached Aaron. He seemed surprised to see them. The cowboys spoke to Aaron. Turning from Belle, he nodded to them, watched the bull leave, then walked with the others to the gate. With one last look at Belle, he stepped from the arena.
“And you think that guy didn’t notice you.” Tiffany lifted her chin.
Belle didn’t know what to think. She stared at the space where the imposing cowboy had stood.
Another bull and rider entered the ring, but Belle’s thoughts were far away—not on the cowboy versus bull battle before her eyes.
When the rodeo ended, Belle and her friends stood and streamed with the crowd up the stadium steps to the concourse.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Tiffany called out to Belle.
“Where are you going?” Frowning, Belle turned to her friend. She’d never been to a rodeo before. She didn’t know what to do.
“To get autographs.” Tiffany beckoned to her. “Come on. It will be fun.”
“Okay.” Belle rose. Her friends knew what to do at a rodeo.
“You said we were going to the horse competition.” Belle hesitated.
“We can do that later.” Tiffany turned away.
Belle’s shoulders dropped. She didn’t want to see that cowboy again.
In the fan zone, her friends queued with the group in front of the long table where the bull and bronc riders sat. They greeted the fans, smiled and signed autographs.
“Look!” Tiffany grabbed Belle’s hand. “There’s no one at Aaron McSweeney’s table. He’s the cowboy who stared at you. Let’s get his autograph first.”
Is that how Aaron McSweeney would be known—as the cowboy who stared at her?
Keeping her head down, Belle followed her friend. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize her.
“Hey, Aaron, can we have your autograph?” Tiffany placed her program squarely on the table in front of the cowboy. She opened it to the picture of him riding a bull. She slipped Belle’s program from her hand. Opening it to the same page, she placed it next to hers.
“I’d be happy to.” The cowboy had a deep, melodious voice, like an all-night radio host—one of those Belle listened to on those nights in the boarding room dorm when she suffered from insomnia. He signed Tifanny’s program, then lifted his gaze to Belle. “What’s your name?” He sounded casual. The heat in his eyes said so much more.
Belle opened her mouth, but no words fell from her lips. Her cheeks burning, she wanted to die from embarrassment. How could she be so tongue-tied she couldn’t remember her name? She’d met celebrities. Even they hadn’t intimated her the way this cowboy did.
“She’s Belle Stedham.” Tiffany looked at her and laughed.
“Yes.” At last, Belle found her voice. “I’m Belle.”
“Well, Belle. I’m Aaron McSweeney. It’s nice to meet you.” Smiling, he looked from her to Tiffany. “It’s great to see you, Tiff. Are you competing in the barrel racing?”
“You bet.” Tifanny looked proud. “Don’t forget. You’ll see me at the Nationals.”
“I’ll get a front-row seat.” Aaron grinned.
“Goody.” Tiffany beamed. “Tell your folks I said, ‘hey!’”
Belle didn’t hear what Aaron said. She murmured she was glad to meet Aaron, then held her breath praying Tiffany wouldn’t say anything about Aaron staring at her.
She didn’t.
After Aaron signed Tiffany’s program, she scooped it up.
“I’m going to stand in the next line. I’ll save you a place,” Tiffany said to Belle and dashed off.
“Wait,” Belle said weakly, but Tiffany was gone.
“I want to apologize.” Aaron’s deep voice brought Belle’s head around. He pulled her program in front of himself. He lifted his blue gaze to hers.
“Apologize?” She frowned.
“For staring. I don’t normally do that.” His smile apologetic, his sensuous mouth was balanced by his square jaw.
“It’s fine.” Heat poured through her body. She shifted her gaze.
“It’s nice of you to say so.” He signed his name with the same flourish he’d used when he’d signed Tiffany’s program. He handed her the program. “I hope to see you again.” His lips curved. His gaze was direct.
“You probably will. My parents just finished building their cabin on Sweet Mountain. We plan to stay there all summer,” she said softly. She had hoped to see him again, but wouldn’t let a handsome cowboy distract her from her dreams. She had big plans.
“I look forward to it,” he said, his gaze never wavering from hers.
“I guess I better find my friends.” She took a step back and pointed lamely behind herself.
She wanted to stare at him all night. Instead, she turned away. Bursting into a run, she dashed to Tiffany standing in the next line.
“Show me his autograph.” Tiffany gave a little bounce.
Belle thumbed through her program.
Still, her thoughts remained on Aaron. Her heart pounded feverishly. Even if she never saw Aaron again, she knew she’d remember this summer as the best one of her life.