Rough Rider (Hot Cowboy Nights, #2)(38)

“Yeah. OK, Mama,” Janice replied woodenly.

“I love you, baby.”

“Love you too, Mama.”

“I’ll call again tomorrow. I promise. Be strong.”

“I will, Mama. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t.”

Janice disconnected the call with a dull feeling of unreality. He couldn’t be dying. He was only fifty-four. Her next thoughts were of her mother. What would they do? How would she and her mama go on without him? She just sat there stunned and staring down at the phone in her limp hand for what felt like hours. She looked up only when a scuffed-up pair of boots broke into her line of vision. Her gaze tracked upward over Grady’s lean body to settle on his face.

His gaze met hers and then drifted to the phone, his habitual grin fading. “Bad news?”

“Yeah. You might say that.” Janice bit down hard into her lip, drawing blood in her struggle against the sob that threatened to break out. “M-my ol’ man…it’s cancer,” she whispered. “Pancreatic. He’s gonna die, Grady.”

She didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly her face was buried in Grady’s shirt. His arms came around her, holding her tight, stroking her back, and murmuring soothing words as she let loose the wave of fear and anguish she’d tried so hard to hold back.

“Don’t worry ’bout a thing.” His voice rumbled in her ear. “Whatever you need. I’m here for you, baby doll.”

“Y-you mean that?” She hiccuped.

“Said it, didn’t I? You goin’ home now?”

“I can’t. I have to stay in Cheyenne until the rodeo’s done—or at least until I know if my bulls are needed for the short round. After that, I’m headed straight home.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“What about the rest of the circuit?”

“Doesn’t matter. I just scored ninety points, which means I’m only one ride away from qualifying for the finals. Even better, the payoff here will take me all the way to Vegas. As long as I finish in the money here, I don’t have to ride again if I don’t want to, which means I can take you home.”

“Thank you, Grady.” She gazed up at him through bleary eyes. “I thought I knew you, but sometimes you really surprise me, you know that?”

He tipped her chin and his mouth brushed softly over hers. “Yeah, Sweet Cheeks. I’m just chock-full of surprises.”

*

Dirk’s bull was being loaded four chutes down. The rider beside him was Seth Lawson, the same young cowboy who’d been with Grady at the Outlaw last night—the one who’d been Grady’s shadow since they’d arrived in Cheyenne.

“Who’d you draw?” Dirk asked, but then instantly recognized the animal as one of Janice’s bulls.

“Magnum Force,” Seth replied. “Heard he spins like a son of a gun.”

“Yeah, you heard right,” Dirk replied.

“You rode him before?” Seth asked.

“Yeah,” Dirk replied. “You might say that. I backed him once and even made the whistle, but then got hung up on my rope. Walked out of the arena with a concussion, bruised ribs, sprained wrist, and dislocated shoulder.”

“Shit!” Seth replied with a nervous grin. “I’m up next. Grady was s’posed to spot me, but he’s disappeared.”

So had Janice. She never missed a ride on her bulls, but she was nowhere around.

Climbing the panel, Dirk scanned the bull pens and the surrounding area. His gaze lit on a couple locked in an embrace. It was Janice plastered to Grady. He clenched his fists, his blood pounding a throbbing pulse in his ears as Grady kissed her. He’d tried to play interference, but the snake had still gotten to her.

She’s mine now, Pretty Boy… Just like this bull right here.

How could he not have seen it coming? Janice’s earlier brush-off made perfect sense now. The idea of the two of them together, especially after Grady’s behavior only the night before, made him want to pound him into the ground. Fuck! How had he let it happen?

Seth’s voice broke into his thoughts. “That right there’s the biggest reason for ridin’ bulls—the all-you-can-eat * buffet.” A big smirk stretched his mouth as he jerked his head toward Grady and Janice. “Since Grady’s…er…occupied, will you spot me?”

“Sure,” Dirk replied absently. Seth popped in his mouth guard but shook away the helmet offer before climbing over the rail. “You not gonna wear the helmet? This SOB’s damned unpredictable,” Dirk warned.

“Grady doesn’t wear one,” Seth said, tugging his Stetson lower on his forehead.

“He’s been doing this a lot longer than you.”

“I plan to keep my head out of the way.”

Dirk shrugged. “It’s your head.”

He spotted Seth, bracing his arms on either side of the rider’s body while Seth’s buddy tightened the bull rope. Seth settled down onto the bull, glancing up at Dirk with a nervous grin before releasing the panel and giving his nod.

Seth’s ride didn’t last long. Within three seconds, he pitched face-first onto the bull’s horns. He went instantly limp. The bull spun, hurling Seth from his back to land headfirst in the dirt—but his left spur was caught in the flank rope, trapping Seth beneath the bull for a deadly pummeling as the animal continued to buck, kick, and spin. The next seconds unfurled like a repeat of Dirk’s own nightmare.