The Bull Rider's Plan
Auteur
Jeannie Watt
Lezers
19,8K
Hoofdstukken
17
Harlequin🏙️ Contemporary
HarlequinChapter One
There were times when a guy needed to be alone with his thoughts.
This wasn’t one of them.
Loud voices and louder music washed over Jess Hayward as he pulled open the rear door of the Shamrock Pub and stepped inside out of the light June rain. After too many nights spent alone, second-guessing himself, he wanted noise and lots of it. A way to shut off his brain and focus on things other than the fact that he’d just given up a steady job to follow the rodeo for four weeks.
It was the right choice. His twin brother was tearing up the professional bull-rider circuit, and Jess knew he should take a shot before it was too late. He was a good bull rider, better than Tyler in some respects, but he was also cautious—not about rough stock, but he did have a backup plan for when things went awry. That was why he was going the rodeo route. If things worked out, he’d join his brother on the pro circuit come January. If not, he’d go back to work for the construction company that sent him all over Montana overseeing the assembly of steel-framed buildings.
But even though he’d made his decision, it was surprisingly hard to shut off the voice of sanity and reason—possibly because for most of his life he’d been that voice for both himself and his brother. Tyler had a penchant for wild behavior—or he had until he hooked up with his now-wife, Skye Larkin. Jess was no saint, but compared to Ty, he was...well...kind of boring.
No. Not boring. Careful.
He crossed the crowded floor to where his friend Gus Hawkins was standing behind the bar. He waited his turn behind a group of college girls, smiling at one of them when she turned and gave him a flirtatious once-over. Apparently, she liked what she saw.
“Hi,” she said with a dimpled smile. “I’m Talia.”
“Jess.”
Talia’s friend turned and pushed a drink into her hand, then made a gesture toward a group of guys on the other side of the room. Talia gave a helpless shrug as her friend grabbed her wrist and started pulling her away.
“Maybe I’ll see you later,” she called with a laugh before disappearing into the crowd.
Maybe. It’d been a while since he’d dated anyone and he felt kind of rusty. Something about twelve-hour days and being on the road too much. Well, he was about to be on the road too much again, but in a different way.
“This is a surprise,” Gus said as Jess stepped forward to rest his hands on the edge of the bar. “For a minute, I thought you were Tyler.”
“Easy mistake to make.” Even their mom made it sometimes.
“Because even though he’s on the road most of the time, I still see more of him than I do of you.”
“And that will continue,” Jess said. “I’m hitting the rodeo circuit.”
Gus gave a satisfied grunt. “Finally.”
“It’s now or never. The body’s not getting any younger.” Taking a beating on a bull was truly an occupation for the young.
Gus set a glass in front of him and poured a shot. “On me. For luck. How are you traveling?”
“Bedroll in the back of my truck.”
Gus held up a finger before moving away to take an order from an old guy in a cowboy hat. He drifted back toward Jess and said, “Take my camper. I’m not using it. I’m just too lazy to sell the thing online.”
“That would be...great.” It would certainly beat the bedroll in the back of the truck, which was how he and his brother had operated during the three years on the Montana circuit before Tyler went pro and their parents sold the family ranch and moved to Texas. At that point, Jess realized that neither he nor Tyler would have a place to live if one of them didn’t get a full-time job and keep the home fires burning. Tyler hadn’t really needed home fires, because he was rarely at home. When he finally did come home for a spell, he’d moved onto a neighboring ranch and had become engaged to the owner.
That had been a turning point. That had been when Jess decided that maybe he did have enough money in the bank. That he was only responsible for himself, which was an odd feeling for an identical twin.
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow afternoon for Union City.”
“Come by and see the camper tomorrow morning. If it’ll work, take it.”
“I’ll pay you—”
Gus leveled a deadly look at him. “I don’t think you will.”
Jess simply nodded. He’d pay something if he used the camper, but he’d wait until he got back rather than argue with Gus now. He continued to stand at the bar, talking to Gus as he drank. Across the room, Talia smiled at him and raised her glass in a small salute. He smiled back, thinking it might be time to make his move. But before he could push off the bar, a small crash at the other end made his head jerk around.
Emma Sullivan’s wide gray gaze came up from the mess of broken glass and beer on the bar. She instantly started apologizing to Gus’s uncle Thad, who was standing only a few feet away.
“I’m so sorry. That guy bumped into me.” She began stacking the smaller pieces of glass onto the larger pieces as she attempted to clear the mess.
“No harm done—or there won’t be if you stop trying to pick up the glass,” Thad said sternly.
“Sorry.” Emma pulled her hands to her chest, holding her fists against the blue-gray sweater she wore. Her eyes came up again and this time she zeroed straight in on Jess. Her lips parted as she recognized him, then she looked over her shoulder at the door.
Excellent. Unless he was misreading the signs, Emma, his late best friend’s little sister, had had too much to drink.
He set down his whiskey. “I’ll be back,” he said to Gus. Just as soon as he made certain that Emma wasn’t alone.
“Jess,” she said as he approached. She attempted to sound offhand, but the end of his name came out just slurred enough to confirm his suspicions.
“Are you here with someone?” he asked, reaching out to take her elbow as someone jostled her from behind, making him think that her story about the guy bumping her was true.
“Watch it,” he growled. The guy turned, half ready to defend himself until he saw the deadly look in Jess’s eyes. He gave a grunt and moved a few feet away. Jess turned back to Emma. “Are you here alone?”
“I came with Jonesy, but I haven’t seen her in a while. I think she might have left with someone.” She spoke the last part in a stage whisper that had Jess rolling his eyes.
A table close to them emptied and he gestured toward it. “Sit. I have to get my drink.”
Drawing in a breath, he headed to the other end of the bar, retrieved his whiskey, which he might as well enjoy, because it might be his last drink of the evening, and headed back to where Emma sat with her elbows on the table.
“What’s going on, Em?”
“My drink spilled when that guy bumped me.” She gave him an encouraging look. “I could use another.”
“I’m not buying you a drink.” He refrained from saying she’d had too many, because nothing brought out the fight in Em like being told she couldn’t do something. Or that she had to do something. Something about being one of the youngest members of a large blended family. Her stepmom had her hands full raising a lot of kids, but that didn’t keep her from trying to control every move they made.
She tightened one corner of her mouth, which was wide and full and frosted with shimmery stuff. He used to tease her about her mouth being too big for her face, but he’d been wrong. She’d finally grown into that smart mouth of hers. It looked...good. And the corners were once again drooping.
“Selma is driving me crazy,” she suddenly blurted, as if needing to explain why she was in the Shamrock alone, having a few. “I need to get married to get her off my back.”
Jess downed the rest of his whiskey and considered ordering another. Across the room he saw Talia flirting with another guy, then turned his attention back to Em. “Are you thinking about getting back with Darion?”
“No.” The word came out flatly. Adamantly. Her broken engagement would stay broken. “But that’s not slowing Selma down. If she doesn’t quit hounding me, I’m going to—” she moved her hands back and forth in a gesture of frustration “—do something.”
“Wait a minute. She wants you to patch things up with Darion?” Which wasn’t the same as Darion wanting to patch things up.
Em leaned closer and he was suddenly aware of the crisp floral scent that was so her. He remembered how she smelled because she spent so much time hanging around him and Len, driving them crazy when they were younger, wanting to be part of whatever they did because Len was her “real” brother. Her full brother. And now he was gone.
“She wants me to wear the freaking dress that she paid too much for.” She lowered her voice for another stage whisper. “As if I asked for it. For the record, I did not. I wanted the five-hundred-dollar dress, but she liked the other one.” Emma leaned closer still and her long reddish-brown hair brushed over his arm like a whisper of silk. “She wants to impress the neighbors. Outdo Marilee’s wedding. Since I’m the only girl in the family, I’m the only shot she has.”
“Come on, Em. She isn’t going to encourage you to get married just so she can pour money down a wedding rathole.”
“Oh, yeah?” She sank into her chair. “Well, she can’t get her deposits back. The money is already poured.”
Jess gave his head a shake. “Not much anyone can do about that.”
Emma’s expression brightened. “Maybe you can take Darion’s place? Just for a while? Fake wedding? Keep Selma happy?”
“I’d rather take a bullet in the leg.”
Emma’s mouth drooped again. “I had a feeling you’d say something like that.”
“Nothing personal, Em.”
“Yeah.” She leaned back in her chair and started surveying the room, as if trying to pick out another husband prospect.
“Do you want a ride home?”
A look of horror crossed her face. “No.” She cleared her throat, trying to sound nonchalant as she said, “I’m no longer staying at home.”
“Then where?”
“Starlight.”
“The motel?”
“Howard lets me park my truck in his garage.”
Howard had been one of Em’s friends in high school, but probably wasn’t on her mother’s radar because he was kind of shy and retiring. “Mom knows I’m okay because she stops to see me at work, but I won’t tell her where I’m staying. I’m one step away from blocking her number, too.” She gave a small snort as she stared down at the table. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tailed me.”
Jess knew from growing up with Len just how intense Selma could get when she was on a mission.
“How do you know she hasn’t?”
“I watch my rearview mirror.”
“Things were that bad with Darion?” Bad enough to call off a wedding? Although he had to give her credit for calling it off six months before the big day instead of waiting for the last moment.
She let out a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it. Besides, I refuse to marry him just to get Selma to leave me alone.”
“But you’d fake marry me.”
Emma smiled. “Because it’s you. There’d be no complications.”
“Ain’t going to happen.” Besides, he wasn’t certain if anything went down with Emma without complications. Even getting engaged to one of the nicest guys he’d ever met hadn’t kept things from getting complicated. No one knew exactly what happened with Em and Darion, and it didn’t appear that Jess would be the exception to the rule. One minute they were on, the next the wedding was off. Darion was now working up north in Kalispell, having left right after the engagement was broken, and it didn’t appear that he was coming back anytime soon.
“How are you getting home tonight? To the Starlight, I mean.”
Her shoulders sank a little. “Good question. It looks like Willa did leave with someone.” Just as Jess had hoped to do. Well, that wouldn’t be happening. Talia had her arm linked with a tall cowboy who seemed satisfied with the way his night was playing out.
“I’m going that way.”
“You barely got here.”
“I think it’s time to leave. I’m taking off tomorrow, so maybe a decent night’s sleep is in order.”
“Yes,” Emma said in a mock stern voice as she got to her feet. “One must get their eight hours a night. And eat three square meals a day. And brush their teeth two—”
Jess took hold of her arm and gently propelled her forward. “What do I owe you?” he asked Gus, who waved his hand.
“See you tomorrow morning. Bring back some big purses.”
“That’s the plan,” Jess said. He glanced down at Emma, who looked as if the booze was hitting her harder now that she was standing. “Do you have everything?”
“Everything except for a husband.”
“You’re not getting one of those here.” He put an arm around her, drawing her close to his side to keep her on her feet as they negotiated the crowd. Again, her light floral scent drifted to his nostrils, and Jess was surprised at how well he remembered it. Well, it was said that traumatic memories are often triggered by scents, and while his experiences with Emma didn’t qualify as traumatic, they did qualify as annoying.
When they stepped out into the damp evening air, Emma gave a small shiver. Jess’s instinct was to pull her even closer, but instead he eased back, putting a hand on each shoulder and steering her toward his truck. She was keeping her feet well, but he wasn’t taking chances.
“So you’re into purses?” she asked as she negotiated around a puddle.
“Rodeo purses.”
“I have one of those. Lots of silver and fringe—”
“Prize money, Emma.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth, then dropped it and said, “I wasn’t thinking rodeo because, well, you haven’t been competing much. That’s embarrassing.”
“For a girl who used to chase cans, I imagine it is.”
Emma had been one hell of a barrel racer, because the word caution never appeared in her vocabulary. She’d stopped after Len had been killed in the rollover accident on the road leading to their ranch.
He felt her stiffen and figured her thoughts were following the same line as his. He opened the door and handed her up into the truck, thinking that he’d probably never touched Emma this much, ever.
She let out a breath and let her head fall sideways against the window when Jess got into the driver’s seat. He headed for the Starlight—an older, yet immaculately kept motel on the edge of town—and slowed to pull into the lot when Emma jerked suddenly. An instant later she was practically on the floor.
“Drive on.”
“What?”
“Don’t. Pull. In.” When he looked over at her, she was scrunched down so far that she was invisible from the outside. He scanned the parking lot, then saw what had Emma curling up into a ball. Her younger brother Wylie was parked at the far end of the lot. And if he wasn’t mistaken, there was another Sullivan ranch truck parked next to him. Selma, no doubt.
“Take me to your place,” Emma murmured.
Jess opened his mouth to say “No,” but the utter desperation in her voice made him shut it again. He abruptly put the truck into gear.
“Thank you.” She spoke so low he barely heard her.
“I think you can sit up now.”
She pushed herself upright and let her head fall back again, squeezing her eyes shut. “I don’t feel so well.”
Jess stepped on the gas. Ten minutes later they were at the field that he called home. After his twin moved out, Jess had never felt cramped in the small camp trailer he lived in while saving money. He was going to feel cramped tonight.
After parking near the trailer, he started around to the passenger side of the truck. That was when he realized—too late, of course—that he’d parked too close to the big puddle that had formed during yesterday’s long rain.
“Em—”
Down she went. He heard her scramble and curse, and by the time he got around the hood of the truck, she was getting back to her feet and wiping wet hands down the sides of her pants.
“This sucks.”
“Sorry.”
She frowned at him first and then at the puddle next to her, all but invisible in the darkness, since he hadn’t bothered to leave the porch light on.
“Where are we?”
“My place.”
She looked around the dark field where his trailer, the only man-made structure within a mile, was parked. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Come on.” He took hold of her elbow as they walked together toward the trailer, but Emma pulled free.
“I could have used you a few minutes ago. I’m fine now.”
“Whatever,” he muttered. He unlocked the door and opened it, then stepped back as Emma climbed the metal steps. He followed her into the trailer and snapped on the light before closing the door, thus trapping the two of them in too small of a place.
You can’t abandon Len’s little sister.
The truth was that he wouldn’t have abandoned her even if she wasn’t related to Len. That wasn’t the kind of guy he was. He’d watch out for Emma until she was in a proper condition to do battle with Selma, who wanted her to wear the dress.
How stupid was that?
Emma grimaced down at her wet jeans, then shook her head as if thrusting the matter out of her mind.
“What’s all that stuff?” she asked, pointing at the canvas duffels and plastic storage containers.
“That’s my life for the next month.”
“The rodeo. Right.” She lost interest and swayed just a little as she crossed the tiny room and sat on the seat under the window. “Can I sleep here?”
“Sleep in my bed.”
“Where will you sleep?”
She seemed only mildly interested in the answer as she once again slumped sideways.
“Tyler’s bunk.” The small built-in bed in the hallway leading to the tiny bedroom at the back of the trailer.
“I’m fine here...” Em’s voice started to trail off. She was fading fast. Jess crossed the room and pulled her up to her feet, ignoring her muttered protests.
“You’ll do better in the bedroom.” That way he could get up, make coffee, start his day, while she slept it off. He propelled her down the hall, opening the door just before his bedroom. “Bathroom,” he said. He opened the bedroom door and pointed inside. “Your bed.” He turned her so that she was square with the bathroom. “Are you good?”
“The best,” she muttered before taking a stumbling step into the bathroom and closing the door in his face.
Jess shut his eyes, let out a breath.
Len would want him to do this.
