Reunited with the Bull Rider
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Christine Wenger
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Chapter One
“Callie Wainright, what the hell are you doing in my home?”
Callie jumped at the low and lethal voice. She spun around and found herself toe-to-toe with Reed Beaumont.
Reed. Seeing him so unexpectedly, so near, she couldn’t swallow. They’d gone to school together since they were first graders in Beaumont, Oklahoma, up until the summer after senior year of high school when things got too serious too fast. Then they’d parted ways.
Callie had thought she could handle seeing Reed again if they ever met face-to-face for any length of time, but she couldn’t find her voice.
He was the middle brother of the bull-riding Beaumonts. The Professional Bull Riders’ announcers called them the Beaumont Big Guns, and they were breaking records with every ride.
Big brother Luke was solid and responsible and a recent bridegroom. Younger brother Jesse was footloose with a devil-may-care attitude. Reed was a healthy mix of the two. There wasn’t a soul in the town that was named after their founding ancestor, Ezra Beaumont, who didn’t follow their careers, including Callie.
“R-Reed.” She swallowed hard. “Reed. Hello. It’s been a long time.”
She looked into his eyes for several beats of her heart. She remembered them as mostly calm and comforting, but the blue pools were turbulent, just like that sunny day that had changed the direction of both their lives.
Callie’s normally poised and businesslike manner was nowhere to be found, and she was afraid that her suddenly weak knees would give out.
“Why you are in my father’s study and sitting in his chair? What are you doing at the Beaumont Ranch?” His voice was cold and icy; obviously he’d never forgiven her. In spite of all their wonderful plans for the future, Callie had backed out at the last minute. She’d stayed home to take care of her mother and gone to community college. She had been supposed to go on the road with him, but she hadn’t able to.
Not when her family had needed her—and they still needed her.
She’d had obligations in Beaumont back then. She still had the same obligations, only now she had a mortgage and she was working hard to pay for it.
“In answer to your question, I’m working here for a while.”
Recently, Luke had hired her for the job of her dreams. When he was in town last year, restoring the ranch after Hurricane Daphne, he’d heard of her work as an executive helper, along with her top-notch business, Personable Assistance.
Yes. She was now sitting in Big Dan Beaumont’s office on an overstuffed brown leather executive chair on the historic Beaumont Ranch. Several patriarchs had sat behind the great oak Stickley desk.
The ranch was the pride of little Beaumont. As a tourist attraction, it brought much-needed dollars to various shops, restaurants and cafés in the area.
The Beaumonts needed her and she needed them. When word got around town that she’d been hired at the ranch, Callie’s Personable Assistance would skyrocket. Maybe she’d even have to hire some help.
She pointed to the crutches he was leaning on. “Bull-riding accident, Reed?” she asked to fill the silence.
“Yeah. But how about elaborating on my question—what are you doing here?”
“I’m a personal assistant. I was hired to get everything organized,” she said. “And to digitize the ranch’s records.”
When Luke had shown her what he’d wanted her to do, Callie had noticed that the Beaumonts’ record keeping was an outright train wreck. All income and expenditures needed to be organized and entered on a spreadsheet.
She was good at that.
Callie gestured to the pile of mail sliding from the desk to the floor like an avalanche. There were opened and unopened sympathy cards and mass cards in memory of Valerie Lynn Beaumont, Big Dan’s wife. Valerie Lynn had died over three years ago.
“I’ll send thank-you cards to what needs to be answered,” she told Luke. “Like the mass cards or monetary gifts.”
There was more mail in the three feed sacks leaning on the right wall. Luke had pulled them out of his pickup, hoisted all three on his shoulder and deposited them, explaining that it was fan mail from the Professional Bull Riders’ office for Reed, Jesse and himself.
Callie remembered telling Luke, “I’ll answer all the fan mail with an autographed picture of whomever the mail is addressed to. And then there’s email that comes via your outdated websites. I’ll answer that, too, and get your them into this century.”
Reed cleared his throat. “Who hired you?”
“Your brother Luke.”
“But Luke’s on his honeymoon,” he said coolly.
“I know. He hired me before he left for Hawaii with Amber. I think that it was Amber—or should I call her Sheriff Beaumont?—who suggested me.” She stood and rubbed her forehead. “What’s the problem, Reed? Do you think I broke into this office because I was just dying to answer fan mail for you and your brothers?”
“Guess not.” Reed aimed his crutches in the direction of a brown leather wingback chair and flopped down with a grunt. He stretched out his right leg.
“So, Callie. Tell me. What have you been doing these past ten years?”
* * *
CALLIE LOOKED AS beautiful as always, Reed thought. His fingers itched to bury his fingers in her mass of blond curls like he’d done before. Her eyes had always reminded him of the spring-green grass along the Beaumont River on the eastern side of the ranch.
Today, Callie had on a pair of jeans that she’d been born to wear, jeans that enhanced her curves. He liked her long-sleeved shirt; the pink-and-blue plaid looked soft enough to touch. And she wore cowboy boots. Callie always wore boots. She said that it made her look taller than her five-foot-five-inch frame.
“I’ve been living my life, Reed. Going to school and working.”
“You look great.” And she did. But even more than looks, Callie was a good person inside and out. He’d developed a deep respect for her back when they were in grammar school together, and finally found the nerve to ask her out on a “real” date in senior year. What had followed was three months of romance and a summer full of heat that they generated themselves.
Callie had been his first, and he was hers.
He’d liked the fact that she always volunteered to help someone in need, but she would never ask for anything for herself. He’d missed her, missed their long walks and longer talks. He should have called her, but he couldn’t, not after the way they’d parted.
“Thanks. You look great, too.” She glanced at his injured leg. “Well, except for the obvious.” She sighed. “I always tune into the PBR, but I must have missed the news about your leg.”
“It’s my knee. Torn meniscus. I might not need surgery if I take it easy on the leg and keep it up.”
“Let me get you another chair so you can stretch out.”
Before he could tell her not to bother, she pulled over the other seat.
With a groan, he put his leg up and tried to get comfortable. “Thanks, but you never answered my question. How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been...fine. But I really should get back to work. And to clarify things, Luke hired me to clean up all the papers in here and get them all organized.”
Callie didn’t say much, but he knew she had a habit of changing the subject when she didn’t want to answer a question. Like now.
“Good. This place needs organizing. There are still...things...from my mother’s...um, death, like cards and all. We just couldn’t bring ourselves to go through everything, least of all my father. After Hurricane Daphne hit, we just dried out whatever papers looked important and tossed the rest.”
Silence.
Callie cleared her throat. “Big Dan is still in rehab, isn’t he?”
She asked that question probably to break the silence this time. She had that habit, too. She knew the answer already. Beaumont was a small town. But Callie cared about people, so her question was genuine. All his feelings for her came rushing back like a tidal wave. Was she dating someone? Was she glad to see him? “Yeah. Alcohol rehab. My father’s been there for seven months, but it seems like he’s been fighting his demons forever.” Truthfully, he was worried about his dad. He’d had several setbacks, but they’d be worth it if he learned something from them. Reed wasn’t sure that his dad realized that he could actually get a sentence of incarceration if he was found guilty of violating his probation.
“I understand about Big Dan. And you know, Reed, I can’t believe I’m here, either. I came to the ranch on the usual visits we had every two years in school during history class. Your beautiful mother gave us the tour. I’ve always loved the ranch.”
A pang of sorrow hit his heart, as it always did whenever he thought of his mother, and he took a deep breath. “Mom loved to share the Beaumont history. And remember how I had to take the tour, too? Sometimes I gave it!”
She laughed.
“Callie, I’m sorry I reacted so weirdly. I just didn’t expect to see you, but I’m glad I did. So you’ve been okay?”
“I’ve been fine.” She nodded.
“According to the town grapevine, I know you’ve never gotten married, but are you dating anyone these days? Weren’t you engaged once?”
His mom had seen Callie’s engagement announcement in the Beaumont Bulletin, and Mom had called him—a couple of times—to tell him. Immediately, he fell into a riding slump, drank way too much beer and had to climb out of his funk with the help of his riding pals and his brothers.
“I’m between serious relationships.” She laughed, but her eyes suddenly misted. “It’s a long, boring story.”
“I have the time.”
She shook her head. “I don’t. I have work to do.”
It was like pulling teeth with a bull rope, trying to get her to expand on her replies, but he’d find out sooner or later. On occasion, Reed had seen Callie in town. They would wave to each other, but they’d never stopped to talk. She’d always seemed like she was in a hurry to get away from him.
There wasn’t anything more to say to each other after their disastrous split. He’d been hurt to his very soul when she’d stayed in Beaumont. Or maybe he’d been just too damn young and idealistic to think that she’d travel with him, that’d he’d win a lot of money and they’d start a family.
He’d achieved two out of those three.
“Callie, did you ever go to college for advertising and marketing, like you wanted?”
“No. I didn’t. I went to Beaumont Community College and took some business classes.”
“Why not advertising and marketing?”
She shrugged and looked away, not meeting his eyes. “Things happened,” she said quietly. “And BCC didn’t offer advertising and marketing.”
“But you dreamed of working at an ad agency on Madison Avenue someday.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said softly. “I have my own business now.”
“Good for you. Callie. You always managed to land on your feet.”
“Most of the time.”
Reed could see how uncomfortable he’d made her, so it was his turn to change the subject. “So whose personal assistant are you exactly?”
“Luke’s. He was the one who hired me, although I seem to be doing things for your family.” She pointed to the three overstuffed feed bags. “Those are full of fan mail. The Beaumont Big Guns are quite the hit.”
“That’s all...ours?”
“Yes. And it’s loaded with SASEs for autographed pictures and your reply.”
“Huh?”
“Self-addressed stamped envelopes.”
“Oh.”
“I understand there’s even more mail at the PBR office. They’re shipping it here.”
“Wow! I am totally shocked.”
“You shouldn’t be. It seems like the whole country is cheering for you three.”
“Tell me, what else does a personal assistant do?” Reed asked with a wink and a grin.
“Not that!” He liked getting a rise out of her. He wasn’t disappointed. Callie’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me.
“Hello? Yes. Hi, Luke...He’s here right now...Yes...He’s supposed to keep his leg up?...Oh?...I’ll tell him...Luke, should he do that considering his injury?...Okay, yeah, I’ll get him there...But I wasn’t hired to be Reed’s...nanny.” She clicked off her phone and turned to Reed.
“Do you have your cell phone on?”
“I can’t find it.”
“Apparently your agent, Rick...um...”
“Kessler.”
She nodded. “Mr. Kessler has been trying to call you. He phoned Luke in the hope that Luke could get hold of you. Mr. Kessler wanted to remind you that today you’re supposed to go to the local public TV station and be interviewed.”
“Dammit! I forgot about that!”
She checked her watch. “You have to be there in an hour. You might want to—”
“Shower and shave?” he asked.
“Might be a good idea since you are going to be on television.”
“I remember now.” He adjusted his crutches to get up from the chair. “They are doing a segment on bull riding.”
“Here’s some more news, Reed. I am now your personal assistant, too. In addition to my other duties here in your father’s office, I am supposed to ‘facilitate your recovery,’ according to your agent and Luke.” There was an incredulous tone to her voice, like she couldn’t believe she had to add Reed’s circumstances to her original duties. “Also, Mr. Kessler is worried that you keep missing your appointments and public appearances. And you are supposed to keep your leg elevated. I also have to make sure you make the appearances that your agent arranged. Sounds like a contradiction. And I’ll be getting paid extra.”
“Then I’ll make it worth your while!”
“Don’t even think about it,” she said. “But tell me about your knee.”
“The medical staff think that my meniscus might heal on its own. I’ll need surgery if it doesn’t.”
“Then you’ll have to keep it up whenever possible. Now, go and take a shower, and make it quick. And if it sounds like I’m nagging you, it’s because I am!”
Reed saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”
He hated being laid up, but he was getting a kick out of the fact that she agreed to look out for him. “I’m getting back to the PBR as soon as I can. The Beaumont brothers have the first three slots tied up. I can’t stay on the injured list for any length of time or some young rider will take my place.”
“I hear you, but first things first. I’ll get you to the TV station, since you can’t drive with a torn meniscus.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He tweaked his hat with his thumb and forefinger, and crutched to his room, where he’d tossed his duffel bag.
After pulling out clean clothes, he went to the bathroom off the bedroom he would forever think of as his. He shucked off his clothes and adjusted the shower water until it was just lukewarm.
No matter how far away he was, he always wanted a home to come back to, and the Beaumont Ranch was the place. For some reason, it felt even more like home with Callie here.
And if it wasn’t for Amber, they would have lost the ranch completely in a tax auction. Thankfully, Amber had made it a point to go to a PBR event and told Luke that he’d better get back and rescue the ranch, not only from the auction block but from the damage that Hurricane Daphne had done eighteen months prior.
Luke had contacted Jesse and Reed, and the “Three Musketeers” sprang into action and sank every penny they received from their bull-riding winnings into fixing up the ranch.
Reed took the fastest shower of his life. He got dressed, grabbed his crutches and went back to Big Dan’s study, where he found Callie hard at work.
* * *
CALLIE’S HEART DID a little leap in her chest when she looked up and saw Reed in the study.
His hair was sticking up in places and it was still wet. He looked...gorgeous.
He wore a long-sleeved baby blue shirt that stretched across his muscled chest.
“So, you’re my new personal assistant?” He grinned, then winked.
“Don’t go all juvenile on me.”
“But we’ll have fun,” Reed said.
“Don’t bug me, Reed.”
“Is that a challenge?” he asked.
“It’s a fact.”
“We’ll see about that, Miss Callie. We’ll see.”
Callie couldn’t help peeking as Reed walked to the front door. That cowboy could really work a pair of jeans, even on crutches. No wonder the buckle bunnies were always after him. Reed was one hunk of a man.
But she wasn’t interested. Her past love life was like a soap opera and she was canceling the show. She didn’t want to think about her past relationships now, if ever.
Callie found her car keys in the deep recesses of her purse and held the door open so Reed could crutch through. His aftershave wafted around her. Pine and leather. Strong scents. Strong, like Reed.
No. She wasn’t going to think things like that. He was just a client, not boyfriend material. He hadn’t been after high school and nothing had changed. In fact, she was even more wary of getting involved with yet another man.
Callie was just tired of putting effort into another relationship. She was tired, just plain tired.
Reed’s magnetism was lethal and, therefore, Callie had to be extra cautious. She had to reinforce that wall around her and wear a Kevlar vest to protect her heart.
They both slid into her ancient SUV and Callie turned the key. It started with a moan and a groan, but it started. She patted the dashboard. “Good job, Ruby.”
“Ruby?” Reed asked as she aimed the vehicle toward the long exit out of the ranch.
“It used to be red, but now it’s mostly faded to pink. I should call it Pinky.”
He grinned. “I’m guessing that it’s about ten years old.”
“Close. It’s twelve years old.”
He chuckled. “You really should put it out of its misery.”
“Then what do I drive?” she asked.
“Another car. Maybe something newer.”
“When you find a money tree, let me know where it is.”
“Oh, I see. Sorry.” Reed was quiet for quite a while before he started talking again.
“Callie, I’ll never forget the day and night of our senior prom. I loved taking you and showing you off. And at graduation, when you were valedictorian, your speech was a pitch for the graduates to stay in Beaumont and make it bigger and better. I liked that.”
“I figure that only about one-third of them moved. I’ve kept track throughout the years. Some even returned.”
Reed snapped his fingers. “Let’s throw a reunion. We can have it at the practice arena on the ranch. I’ll order some tents. It’d be great to see everyone.”
“You want to have a party on the same spot where you practice riding bulls?”
“Yeah. I don’t have any practice bulls here yet, if it’s the manure you’re thinking of.”
Callie couldn’t plan a party right now. She had enough work to do being the personal assistant to the Beaumonts. “Um, uh...maybe when I have everything organized, having a reunion is something to think about.”
“Don’t you ever have fun, Callie?”
“Basically...no. Not since high school. I’ve been juggling many balls in the air. I have responsibilities and obligations.”
“Responsibilities and obligations? Sounds serious.”
“It is. They are.” She decided to change the subject because she sounded like such a dud. Maybe she was, but such was life. “I liked the prom. If I remember correctly, Tiffany McGrath, head cheerleader, was the prom queen and you were king.”
“I wonder what Tiff is doing now.”
“She lives on Maple Street and has three kids. She married Josh Nelson. Remember how everyone called him Nerdy Nelson? He’s not. He’s a full-time investment broker and a volunteer firefighter. Tiff has her own gift shop on Main Street—Gifts by Tiff.”
“Tiff had dreams of working for the United Nations. She was studying three languages.” He shook his head. “She wanted to move out of Beaumont and go to a big city.”
“Things change, Reed. People change. She told me that she wanted to raise her family in Beaumont.”
“That’s nice.” He paused, as if he were thinking, then asked, “Do you ever regret not going to New York?”
“Maybe, but here I have responsibilities and—”
“Obligations,” Reed finished.
“Yes.”
She couldn’t leave if she wanted to. She was entrenched in Beaumont, and her mother had her own local doctors who’d saved her from breast cancer ten years ago, and she hoped they’d be able to do it again now.
Her twin brothers would be leaving for college soon, but Beaumont was where they loved to be right now—in the small bungalow on Elm that she’d bought for them. Well, the bank owned it, but as long as she kept working as hard as she had been and kept up with the taxes and the monthly payments, no one would ever evict them again.
Never.
“Is the TV station still on Wells Avenue?” Reed asked.
“Yes. And we’re cutting the time short. You won’t have much time to prepare.”
“I’ve done a million of these things. I don’t need to prepare. ‘Reed, what made you become a bull rider?’ I’ll answer, ‘I love the adrenaline rush and the friends that I’ve made. And being with my brothers is another reason why I love riding. To love what you’re doing and make money doing it...well, it doesn’t get any better than that.’”
Callie chuckled. “I guess you don’t need to prepare after all.”
“If he asks me that question first, I’ll buy us coffee.”
“If he asks you that first, I’ll buy us lunch,” Callie said in a moment of exuberance she hadn’t felt in a long time. Goofy bets with Reed had been some of the best times of her teen years, and no one else she’d dated since he’d left had made her laugh like he had.
Callie parked in front of the station and they both hurried into the lobby, where Reed was whisked away to the booth. Callie was directed to a viewing room, where she settled into a comfy chair.
The announcer nodded to Reed. “With us is champion bull rider Reed Beaumont. Reed, tell the audience why you decided to ride bulls.”
Reed looked at Callie through the window of the booth, grinned and winked. Then he launched into his memorized speech.
Callie enjoyed watching him. He was in his element, casual and charming, informative and humble. She could tell he was excited about all aspects of bull riding and appreciated the PBR.
She used to be that excited about studying advertising and marketing. The internet had made everything so exciting. Besides, facts and figures were her strong suit, and developing spreadsheets was exhilarating. And who didn’t adore pie charts?
She studied Reed. He was sitting on a chair with wheels and his left arm was up in the air. Callie could hear how he was retelling one of his rides on Cowabunga, his nemesis.
Reed’s face was animated; his now sapphire eyes were twinkling—it was clear he simply loved the sport.
Then his interview was over and he stared at his crutches for a few seconds before he picked them up. She was probably the only one who noticed the slump of his shoulders and the droop at the corners of his mouth when he looked at them.
He wanted to be riding bulls. Even Beaumont probably ran second place to his love of riding bulls.
“Callie, do you want to grab that lunch you owe me? I’m famished. It’s on me because you drove me here.”
“It’s on me. I lost the bet. Besides, I don’t need any payback.”
“I know, but I’d like to treat you.”
She smiled. “I really should get back to work.”
“You pick the place,” Reed said as if he hadn’t heard her.
“If you like Italian food, I’d suggest Poppa Al’s Restaurant on Main and Willow.”
“Sounds great.” He moved, but his crutches didn’t. She could see the pain register on his face and how it hurt when his right leg bore some weight.
They walked toward Callie’s SUV. “I’m hoping that this thing heals fast because I keep my rank.” He stopped walking and turned to her. “Okay, who’s your favorite rider?”
“Probably your brother Luke,” she lied. “He can ride anything with hair.”
Reed put his hands over his heart. “I’m wounded.”
“Yes, you are.” She pointed to his leg, then aimed the key fob at her ancient SUV to unlock it. Sometimes it worked; sometimes it didn’t. Today it didn’t, so she unlocked the driver’s side manually and leaned over to open the passenger side for Reed.
“You need to let your knee heal. You shouldn’t have done that interview.”
Reed sighed. “Rick said it’d be good publicity for us and for the PBR. I was committed to it.”
“Committed to it? You didn’t even remember—”
“That’s why I need a personal assistant, Callie. I got so much on my mind.”
“By going back to riding too soon, wouldn’t you be jeopardizing your life? I mean, if you have a knee injury that hasn’t healed yet, when your ride is over, can you hurry and run away before the bull pounds you into the dirt?” Callie asked.
“I might be a little slow getting away.”
“Then you are jeopardizing the lives of the bullfighters whose job it is to protect you.”
He paused for a while. “I’ll give them a heads-up. But you have to remember that almost every bull rider rides with injuries.”
“I suppose so, Reed, but I hate to see you hurt.”
“It almost sounds like you care.”
“Yeah, I care. I do. I don’t want to see any of you riders hurt.”
Reed put his hand on her shoulder and left it there for several beats. Her mouth suddenly went dry and her heart pounded in her ears.
She steeled herself and sternly reminded her heart that she’d had four serious relationships that never ended at the altar for various reasons.
And she was counting Reed, too. He’d been the first one.
Callie didn’t want Reed touching her, even if it was on top of a blouse and a sleeveless plaid vest. She’d sworn off men.
She was going to ignore him as best as she could while working in his house. She had to clean up Big Dan’s study and, by doing so, referrals to her business would soar.
She could pay her mortgage, maybe pay it off sooner that she needed to. Maybe she could even buy a bigger house.
And she could pay medical bills, her mother’s medical bills from her recent cancer treatments and her brothers’ from their sports injuries.
It seemed like a good plan. She’d just have to stay away from Reed and all the distractions that came with him.
Easy, right?
