Rodeo King (Dustin Lovers Book 1) (11 page)

Obediently he rose to take the bottle.
“Are we leaving yet, Mommy?”

She ruffled his damp hair. “Are you
ready to leave yet? We can stay a little longer before we go back to the
cottage.”

“No. I mean, are we going home yet?” His
face was bright, touches of pink on his rounded cheeks despite all the
sunscreen they’d used and the too-big hat shielding his face. He guzzled the
rest of her water and then dug a chubby toe in the sand, a sweet little guy
with something big on his mind. “I had lotsa fun, but I miss Daddy. I think
he’s lonely. I think we should go home and be with him.”

Sudden, harsh tears formed in Rosemary’s
eyes as she looked from her son to Susan. He wanted his daddy.
God, I want
his daddy, too.

“Susie-Q, I’m just so lost.” She didn’t
know what else to say.

Her best friend since grade school
slipped her arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “He’s a pretty good man,
Rosie. Most of the time,” she amended, tempering her words with a smile. “As
much as I’d still like to just haul off and punch him for the crap he put you
through, he’s a damned good father. Whatever the RC wants with him, I wouldn’t
be surprised if Caleb’s plotting to figure out how to bring you and Carson
along.” Susan offered another, tighter hug. “He’s gotten me really mad several
times in the past, but I think now you owe it to Lil’ Tuff here to see what’s
what.” She pulled the bush hat down to Carson’s nose and made him grin.

While her son leaned against Susan’s
legs and yawned, Rosemary took a few moments to deal with the jumble of
uncertainty swirling in her head.

Her brother persisted in painting Caleb
as a bastard who wanted nothing more than an easy lay between rodeo hookups.
Mason refused to see beyond his own anger. Despite the hurt Caleb’s desertion
caused her from years ago, still difficult for her to release completely,
Rosemary had to see this through. Trust never came easy for her but maybe it
was high time she grew up a bit and tried harder. If he broke her heart a
second time, so be it. She’d lived through it once, she could do it again.

At least she had Carson. She glanced
down at him, her heart filled with so much love that she ached with it. As long
as she had her son, she could handle anything.

With that decision made, she began
collecting their beach gear, folding towels; sorting through toys and empty
containers of soda pop and water. Offering Susan a grateful smile for her
support, Rosemary quietly said, “Let’s go home, and see what’s what.”

Where could he be?
Rosemary rapped her knuckles on Caleb’s motel door again, then checked the
painted number above the deadbolt. Fourteen. She definitely had the right room.
Caleb had mentioned he was staying in Nash’s studio unit, and the man only had
one.

She was determined to have it out with Caleb
once and for all. Was he staying or was he going? She had a right to know, damn
it.

When there was still no answer, she
glanced around the area and worried her bottom lip. The sinking sensation in
her stomach grew as a sense of fresh panic set in.
Had he left?
Already
gone back to the rodeo? She shivered at the chill rolling over her, stark
against the airless, muggy evening.

Noticing a slit in the curtains, she
peered inside and saw a perfectly made up room, with nothing lying around to
indicate it was still occupied.

Gone. Again.

Tears threatened and she blinked them
away. She wouldn’t cry again over a man who didn’t even care enough to say
goodbye. Something she should be used to by now. Yet a fist squeezed her
bruised heart.

Turning from the window, she spotted
DeeDee’s
down the street
and decided she needed a drink. After a
final afternoon at the lake, Carson was spending the night with his uncle.
Mason had promised to take him to the kid’s matinee in Hawthorn tomorrow, which
was playing the new Disney movie, and he wouldn’t be home until late afternoon.

Plenty of time to get shit-faced if I
want to.

Rosemary refused to spend the night
alone wallowing in self-pity after being dumped again by that aggravating
cowboy. Marching toward the bar entrance, she breathed deeply through her nose
and tried to calm herself.

She dug through her purse for her phone
and punched in Susan’s number. “Hey, wanna meet me at DeeDee’s for a drink and
a bite to eat?”

“Sure,” her friend said. “When?”

“Now.” Rosemary pushed through the
doors, scoping out a seat at the bar. It was early yet, and the supper crowd
was just straggling in. “I’ll order a pitcher of margaritas to get us started.”
Her voice sounded strained, even to her own ears.

“What’s happened, Rosie?”

Her throat constricted as utter despair
flooded her, then, shaking it off, she climbed onto the tall barstool. “I’ll
tell you when you get here.” Her voice broke at the end.

“I’m on my way. Feel free to start
without me. Sounds like you need it.”

She hadn’t even finished her first drink
when Susan came flying through the door. She’d switched her shorts for a pair
of tight jeans, but still wore the slinky summer top from the beach. Her hair
was pulled back into a ponytail and she had a pissed-off expression on her pretty
face.

Spotting Rosemary, she hurried over and
took a seat next to her. As she poured herself a drink from the pitcher, she
asked, “So, what’d Caleb do now?”

“He left,” Rosemary said simply, sucking
her drink dry through the colorful straw. She held out her glass for Susan to
refill.

Her friend froze for a moment. “You’re
shitting me. Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure.” Rosemary clenched
her jaw. Her first drink had taken the sharp edge off her sorrow, but it was
still hard to think about being deserted again. And this time around Caleb knew
about his son, but he’d still left. That hurt the worst.

Susan’s gaze narrowed as she proceeded
to fill Rosemary’s margarita glass. “That dirty bastard,” she muttered.

“Yep. That about sums it up. Doesn’t
matter. I’m done.”

Susan lifted her drink in a toast.
“Good.”

They clinked glasses. Rosemary loved
margaritas, and DeeDee’s made the best, just the right hint of tequila
exploding on her tongue. She’d skipped breakfast due to her nerves, and only
munched on a handful of snacks during the day. Already feeling the effects of
the alcohol, this would be her last one, at least until she got something in
her stomach.

Susan abruptly straightened and glanced around
the bar. An amused grin spread across her face. “Hottie alert.” She nodded toward
the pool tables. “Up for a game?” She wiggled her brows suggestively.

Rosemary eyed the two men at the back of
the bar, playing pool. Both attractive and about their age, neither one of them
looked like a damn cowboy. For a moment she was tempted, and when the taller of
the two met her gaze, she didn’t immediately turn away.

He smiled at her, but all she could see
in her mind was Caleb’s smile; the way his eyes shone with happiness, crinkling
at the corners and lighting up his entire face. She’d been sure he cared for
her, and wouldn’t leave this time.

Boy, was I wrong.

Only when the man handed his cue stick
to his friend and began walking their way did she realize she’d been staring,
lost in thoughts of Caleb.

Her stomach sank.

Glancing back to Susan, she mumbled, “Oh
shit.”

Her friend chuckled. “Cute. Maybe he’ll
invite his friend over.”

Rosemary snorted, taking another long
pull on her drink. “Not interested.”

“C’mon, Rosemary. Have a little fun.
It’ll do you good.”

She shook her head. “Not tonight,
Susie-Q.”

Susan blew a raspberry. “You’re no fun.”

The man reached them, and Rosemary,
unwilling to appear rude, gave him a weak smile. Her pain in the ass friend
wasn’t so hesitant. “Hi,” Susan said in a flirty voice, lifting her drink in a
welcoming salute. “I’m Susan, and this is Rosemary.”

“I’m Brad.” The smile he gave them was
nice, but she still wasn’t interested. “Did you ladies want to join us for a
drink?” He nodded his head toward his friend who hung out by the pool table,
watching them with interest.

“We’d love to,” Susan chimed, grinning
broadly.

“No.” Rosemary shook her head. “I’m
waiting for my boyfriend.” She tried not to cringe at the lame excuse, but
jutted her chin in defiance when Susan cast her an amused glance.

Disappointment flashed over the man’s
face, before he returned his attention to her best friend. “How about you,
Susan? Ready to play?”

The innuendo behind his words evident,
her friend chuckled. “Sorry,” she said. “Raincheck?”

Just then the front door opened and Dave
walked in, glancing toward the dining room. “There he is now.” Rosemary hopped
off the stool with her drink in her hand. “Susan, why don’t you go ahead and
play a game of pool while I have a talk with Dave.”

“You sure?” Susan studied her intently.

She nodded. “I’m certain. We’ll be in
the dining room. Should I order something for you?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a burger with the
works.” She returned her attention to Brad. “One game.”

Brad nodded, offering her his arm. “One
game.” They turned and walked off together.

Spotting her, Dave came over. “Hi, darlin’.
Where’ve you been hiding?”

Her cheeks heated. Dave knew damned well
she’d spent the last week shacking up with Caleb. She drained her drink, before
asking, “Have you had dinner?”

“No.” He gave her an intense once-over.
“Everything okay?”

“No. Not really.”

Dave took her elbow and led her to the
dining room. After holding her chair out, he sat across from her. “So, tell
me.”

Rosemary stared into his compassionate
eyes and once again called herself every kind of fool for falling in love with
a wandering cowboy instead of Dave. “Caleb took off again.”

His expression turned dark. “What
happened? Last I heard you two seemed to be working things out.”

After Adrianne walked over and took
their orders, Rosemary played with the stem of her glass, then shoved it aside.
“He was offered a job with the Rodeo Commission, and evidently took it, because
when I stopped by the motel to talk with him about it he was gone.”

There was no keeping the tears from her
voice, though she refused to let a single one fall. Dave reached over and
placed his hand on hers where they were busy shredding one of the napkins.

“Did he tell you he was leaving?”

“No. He just left.”

“How do you know, Rosie? You should have
a talk with him before jumping to conclusions. I ran into Caleb a few days
back, and he seemed pretty damn happy to be in your life and spending time with
his son. I don’t think he’d just throw that away.”

“I tried, Dave. I went to the Bronco
Inn, but he was gone. Not even a goodbye.” Emotion clogged her throat.

“Do you love him?”

Rosemary frowned. “It doesn’t matter if
I do or not, because he left again. He left his son. How am I going to tell
Carson his daddy is gone?”

“Do you want my advice, darlin’?” Before
she had a chance to answer Dave continued, “I think you need to find out why
Caleb left. He might have a perfectly good explanation.” He sat back in his
chair and picked up the drink Adrianne set before him. “It’s obvious to
everyone you’re crazy about each other, so don’t let your anger and
insecurities get in the way. That’s all I’m saying.”

A flutter of hope sparked to life in her
chest. Maybe she had jumped to conclusions. But still, she was hesitant to
trust.

“What am I supposed to do, Dave? Just
wait around until Caleb decides to mosey back into town again? I don’t think
so. I deserve better and so does Carson.”

He gave her a steady look. “Then don’t.”

Rosemary just stared at him for a long
moment, as the words sank into her brain.
Then don’t.

Slowly, she pulled her cell phone from
her pocket, swiped it open and punched in a number. “Mason, can you keep Carson
an extra day or two?”

She paused for a moment listening to her
brother’s voice, then quietly stressed, “It’s important.”

Caleb stood and respectfully tipped his
hat. “Thanks, Lenny. For everything.”

After an enthusiastic handshake, his new
boss slapped him on the back. “We’re glad to have you with us, son. You’re
bringing a world of experience to the RC as well as a fresh approach.” Lenny
shrugged into his suit coat and smoothed the careful comb-over that hid most of
his bald spot.

The man wasn’t fooling anyone with that
hairstyle, and he probably knew it. Still, Lenny Folsom was a nice guy who’d
bent over backward to assure Caleb had a future for him and his family.

Even if that family seemed out of reach
right now.

“So.” Lenny kept pace as Caleb edged
toward the wide doors leading outside of the State Rodeo Commission offices.
“When do you want to start? Not tryin’ to rush you,” he hastily assured as
Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Just need a general idea for my team. That’s all.” He
jingled loose coins in his pocket, squinting up at Caleb in the afternoon sun.
“That little ranch on the outskirts of Cheyenne is almost ready for you. Your
gal and the boy—Carson, right?—well, they can move in anytime, and—”

“I don’t know about that. I still need
to talk to Rosemary.” Caleb was beginning to feel that rush Lenny had promised
wasn’t coming from him.

Surprise wreathed the older man’s face
as he stared at Caleb. “You didn’t tell her? You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I were.” Caleb rubbed at his
forehead, feeling the tension brewing under his fingers. “I’ll need to get back
to you on that.”
Shit, on a lot of things.
He wasn’t about to admit he’d
lost track of his woman. It was just a matter of location, because once he
found her, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to let her run off again.

“Well, if I were you, I’d let your lady
know she’s got a right nice place to call home once you start hittin’ the
road,” Lenny advised. “Hell, I’ll let the boys on the construction team know.
They can slap on a fresh coat of paint, too. Whatever she wants.”

“Let me actually talk to Rosemary first,
okay? Then we can worry about paint.” With another fast handshake and a jaunty
salute, Caleb bid Lenny goodbye and headed toward the huge parking lot. He’d
promised himself to return Nash’s truck before four-thirty.

An hour later Caleb swerved to avoid yet
another pot-hole. A repaving crew had been working on this section of 211, but
it was a mess in spots. The back road was still the fastest way to get to
Dustin. He recalled how many times he ridden the bus on this damned road,
scraping up enough money to ride to Cheyenne and catch the summer rodeo circuit.
He’d watch his heroes ride, and plot for the day he could be shooting his own
eight seconds on the backside of the meanest bull in six counties.

And I did it, didn’t I? Rode those
bulls, made that fast money. Spent it, too.

For him it was never the horses, though
he certainly enjoyed riding. It was always the bulls. And he couldn’t regret a
single competition during those crazy years. He didn’t even regret the
orneriest bull of all, breaking his leg in two places; laying him off bull
riding, most likely permanently . . . because it also brought Rosemary back
into his life. Carson, too. He’d spend the rest of his days thanking God for
the second chance he’d been given.

When he bumped over that damned rut the
county never seemed to bother fixing, Caleb knew he was eight miles from home. Reflexively
he slowed to a crawl just as he caught a flash of chrome and color up ahead, sitting
at an angle near the berm of the road. A familiar, dirt-streaked blue Civic.

 
He eased to a stop and
killed the engine, squinting into the afternoon sun as he took in the sight
before him.

Hot damn. God loves me after all.

Quietly, Caleb exited the truck,
grabbing his hat from the seat and dropping it on his head. Leaving the door
wide open, he stepped easy over road gravel so as not to startle the figure
leaning into the open hood.

Shapely, long legs, covered in skintight,
faded-out Levi’s, were tucked into a pair of beat-up Dingos. One boot toe, squared
off and scuffed, tapped impatiently in time with the sound of a hammer striking
metal. Tendrils of smoke wafted from the vicinity of what was surely a dry and
thirsty radiator.

He knew those red leather boots and
those denim-clad legs; hell, he knew the heart-shaped ass attached to them.
Rosemary Carmichael, love of his life, mother of his son.

Caleb felt himself slowing in
anticipation, a dozen smooth opening lines bouncing in his head, a million
things he wanted to say to Rosie starting with, ‘I love you,’ and ending with,
‘Please never leave me.’

Instead, he walked up to the stranded
car, grinning at the banging hammer mixed with a string of cuss words, and
calmly—inanely—said, “Hi. Something wrong with your car?”

***

Cursing and pounding on the worthless
piece-of-crap radiator, Rosemary never heard him approach until his low
baritone voice flowed over her temper like a honey balm. Caleb Johnson, all
six-feet-four of sex on a stick, sauntering over to her on those endless,
muscled legs of his. He wore a pair of brown western-cut dress slacks, a white
dress shirt with a “Hook ‘Em” bolo tie, and polished Tony Lamas on his feet. He
reached for his hat, a snappy, tan felt Stetson, and took it off, holding it in
both hands, turning the brim around and around as if nervous.

Caleb, nervous? She’d never known the
man to be anything but smooth and supremely cool. Confident. Bigger than life.
Certainly not the hesitant man who stood before her with his heart in his eyes.

His heart’s in his eyes. For me.

The hammer slipped out of her fingers
and hit the dusty ground. She couldn’t look away. Seconds eased into a minute
or more as they stood two feet from each other and stared. Finally, Caleb’s
lips parted on a tender, yearning, “Rosie . . .”

“I was—I was coming to you.” Tears blurred
her vision; she didn’t bother to hold them back. “I figured you must be in
Cheyenne so I took the last of my checking account money and spent it on a full
tank of gas. I was going to walk right up to you and tell you to come home.”

While her mouth quivered over the words,
Caleb had stepped closer and set his hat on the fender of her doornail-dead Honda.
Now he used his thumbs to wipe her damp cheeks, his palms curving along her
jaw. He bent in, the merest inch, and rasped, “Then what were you going to tell
me?”

“I—I—” Overcome, she turned her face
into his hand and trembled.

“Would it help if you knew what I wanted
to tell you?” he whispered.

She nodded.

A single tug brought her into his arms
and up against his heart. With a sigh she settled there, one hand grasping his
shirt and the other sliding over his shoulder to bury itself in his hair. Caleb
pressed his mouth to her ear.

“I wanted to tell you I found us a
future together, Rosie. A job with good benefits and a chance to be together most
of the year, living in Dustin if you want. Traveling the circuit in the summer
with Carson.”

He brought his lips to hers and touched
them, so very gently. His voice lowered to an aching breath that feathered over
her tongue. “We’d find a house with a yard. Maybe a dog. Maybe a little sissy
or bro, too. And it all comes with a promise and a ring.”

Dropping to one knee, Caleb held both
her hands; she could feel the tremor in his fingers. “I don’t have the ring,
just yet. But I got the promise and it’s so big and so true. Marry me, Rosemary
Carmichael.” He swallowed visibly, hard enough to cause his Adam’s apple to
shudder. “For the love of God and my sanity, Rosie. Please marry me.”

How she managed to force anything out
when her throat was so clogged with emotion, Rosemary never knew. But she
choked out, “Yes, Caleb. Yes.”

Three seconds later she fell into his
arms, her senses filled with warm cotton and hot man, kneeling on the side of
the road eight miles outside of Dustin, while cars zipped by and horns honked.