38. Red
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Red
My phone drags me out of sleep before sunrise, and I answer before I’ve even opened my eyes. “Willy.”
“She’s gone.”
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and reach for yesterday’s jeans as my heart ices over. “Huh?”
“Arizona. I’m at the rodeo grounds, and her truck is here, but she isn’t.”
I pull on my boots, already heading for the door. “Have you checked everywhere?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate. “And not just me. Some of the volunteers are here early and they haven’t seen her either.”
I stop long enough to grab my truck keys. “You sound sure.”
“I am.” There’s frustration in his voice, but it isn’t aimed at me. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I think she found something.”
I let out a breath through my nose because I’m sure he’s right.
Arizona goes quiet whenever she starts fitting pieces together.
She doesn’t argue. She doesn’t announce she’s about to do the exact thing everyone warned her against.
She smiles, nods, and keeps following the trail until it takes her where she wants to go.
“I told her to call one of us before she got creative,” Willy says. “She promised.”
Promises don’t stand much chance once Arizona decides she’s close to an answer. “I’m heading over.”
The line goes dead.
By the time I pull into the rodeo grounds, Emmett is climbing out of his pickup with his phone pressed against his ear while Willy paces beside him, watching the road as though Arizona might decide she’d gone far enough and come driving back.
Emmett lowers the phone and shakes his head. “Straight to voicemail.”
He tries again while I look at Willy. “You really think she’s missing?”
“I know it.” He stops pacing. “This morning she’ll be looking for whatever she thinks we’ve missed before anyone gets hurt.”
I climb back into my truck. “We split up. Emmett, check the performer tents, midway, and every building between the main gate and the stage. Willy, search the barns, livestock office, and equipment yards.”
“You?”
“I’m starting where she’d start.”
The three of us pull away together, then separate once the rodeo grounds come into view.
Championship morning has already packed the rodeo grounds with riders, volunteers, and spectators.
I leave the truck beside the competitors’ entrance and head straight for the north arena fence because Arizona would’ve gone back to the damaged section before she looked anywhere else.
My phone rings while I’m checking behind the veterinary station, and I answer without looking at the screen. “Tell me you found her.”
Emmett’s breath comes hard through the speaker. “We found Beau behind the stock trailers, and he tried to leave when he saw us.”
“Keep him there.”
I turn toward the service lane and force my way around two men carrying a saddle.
By the time I reach the trailers, Emmett and Willy have Beau trapped against a flatbed with his hat lying in the dirt near his boots.
Sweat darkens his shirt, and fear has stripped away the confidence he’s worn through every lie he’s told us.
His gaze meets mine. “I didn’t touch her.”
I cross the distance, grab his shirt, and drive him against the trailer. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“Give me an answer that keeps me from taking this apart with you against it.”
Emmett steps closer without trying to pull me away. “We need him able to talk.”
Beau swallows while I keep him pinned. “I didn’t know Travis was going after her.”
I tighten my grip on Beau’s shirt until he winces. “Where is she?”
His breathing comes fast as his eyes dart toward the north end of the grounds. “Behind the north chutes. She found the damaged fencing, and he went after her.”
“What did he do to the arena?”
Fear flashes across his face before he answers. “He loosened the supports. He said the fencing would give way during the finals.”
I shove Beau back against the trailer and turn to the others. “Emmett, clear the arena. Willy, get Hank and every deputy you can find.”
Neither of them wastes a second. They break in opposite directions while I take off toward the north chutes, already running before either of them answers.
He lets me go, and I run toward the north chutes.
Deputies and rodeo staff rush toward the stands, waving people back from the fencing while spectators pour into the aisles.
I leave them to it and keep running toward the north chutes, knowing every second I lose gives Travis another chance to reach Arizona before I do.
The crowd surges despite him, and I turn into the lane behind the chutes. “Arizona!”
Metal slams against the chute wall ahead of me, and I round the corner to find Travis holding Arizona against the rails.
Her head jerks toward me, and every muscle in my body loosens before tightening all over again.
She’s alive.
Travis yanks her harder against him, and the relief that hit me a heartbeat ago disappears beneath a single thought.
I’m getting her out of here.
Her hat lies crushed in the dirt, and blood runs from a cut near her hairline. Travis has one fist twisted in the front of her jacket while a broken length of railing presses across her throat, but she drives her knee toward his thigh before he can tighten his grip.
He twists enough to avoid the worst of it, though her boot catches him and earns a curse.
“Let her go,” I tell him as I move closer.
Travis looks over his shoulder, and the man who used to grin for every rodeo camera turns a face hardened by years of anger toward me.
Gray has spread through his hair, prison has added thickness to his body, and he watches me with the satisfaction of someone who has replayed this meeting too many times.
“There’s the great Red Bronson,” he says as he pulls Arizona tighter against him.
She turns her head as far as the railing allows. “He damaged the fencing, and he has a knife.”
Travis jerks her backward. “You should’ve kept walking when you found those bolts.”
“Take your hand off her,” I say as another section of rail cracks behind us.
I keep my attention on Arizona as she lowers one hand toward the pocket of her shorts. Travis is too focused on me to notice, but her eyes hold mine long enough to show she’s waiting for an opening.
“You’ll lose the ranch once everyone knows how careless you are,” Travis says as he presses the railing harder against her neck. “Nobody will trust a man who can’t protect his own people.”
“Let Arizona go, and you can settle this with me.”
Anger flashes through her expression, though she stays still.
Travis laughs and shifts his stance. “You’re still pretending you’re a hero.”
“I’ve never been one.”
Travis laughs, blood streaking down his chin. “You stole my life.”
I hold his stare without moving. “No. You threw it away.”
Fury twists across his face as he lunges. He shoves Arizona aside and swings the broken rail toward my head.
She hits the dirt near the chute wall and scrambles toward the rails while I duck, but the metal clips my injured shoulder and sends pain through the joint. I drive into Travis before he can swing again, burying my fist beneath his ribs.
He folds around the blow, then pulls the knife from his belt and slashes across my side. The blade cuts through my shirt and skin, but I catch his wrist before he can strike again and slam it against the chute until the knife falls into the dirt.
Travis slams his forehead into my face and tackles me against the metal rails. Blood fills my mouth as his fist catches my jaw, and the impact sends another burst of pain through my shoulder, but anger has made him careless enough to repeat the same attack.
I block his next punch and drive my elbow into his throat, forcing him back while he coughs and reaches for the knife lying in the dirt.
“Red!” Arizona shouts from behind him.
A damaged panel tips toward her, and she scrambles beneath the lower rail before it crashes into the lane and blocks the path to the main arena.
Dust rolls across the space as Travis drives into my side and takes us both to the ground. My knee slams into the packed dirt hard enough to buckle, but I twist before he can pin me and catch his mouth with my fist as he swings for my ribs.
Blood spills across his chin, yet the grin he gives me carries the same reckless pleasure I remember from our years on the circuit. We both scramble upright, boots slipping in the churned dirt, before he comes at me again.
I catch his shirt, drive him into the chute, and hammer my fist into his stomach. He doubles over, coughing, but I haul him upright before he can fall.
“I’m done carrying your mistakes.”
I hit him again.
Travis staggers, blood running from his mouth, and throws himself at me with a roar.
The damaged chutes groan again as a support beam buckles beside us, shaking the rails beneath my hand. Arizona reaches the fallen knife and kicks it beneath the collapsed panel, but Travis sees her and tears free of my grip.
He lunges toward her, and I catch him around the waist before he reaches her, driving him facedown into the dirt. Travis throws an elbow toward my chin while I force his arm behind his back and put my knee between his shoulder blades.
“You ruined my life,” he says again through a mouthful of dust.
For years I’d believed him. Today I don’t.
His fight weakens beneath me as Emmett climbs across the collapsed rail and reaches Arizona. He checks the cut on her head and runs his hands over her shoulders while Willy helps a deputy lift the edge of the fallen panel to clear the lane.
Emmett gets to her first. Willy’s right behind him. Nobody’s waiting for me to carry this alone anymore.
Hank steps through the gap with two deputies as Travis stops struggling. One deputy takes his free arm while Hank reaches for the cuffs.
“We’ve got him, Red,” Hank says. “It’s over.”