CHAPTER NINE
“YOU WON’T RECONSIDER?” Dallas asked the guy on his cell phone on Monday morning. “It’s for a good cause.”
“But it’s not a sanctioned rodeo.” The stock contractor wasn’t having any part of Dallas’s plans, not that he should be surprised. Half a dozen previous calls, not just today, had ended the same way. Without cows and bulls, there wouldn’t be much of a rodeo, sanctioned or not. “Sorry, buddy. Wish I could help but I can’t. Besides, the date you have in mind won’t work.”
“What if I change the date? I’m not wedded to it.” Except he knew Lizzie wanted her kids there. A surprise treat for them, if not her, at the end of summer.
“My stock’s all spoken for,” the guy said. “Hope to see you on the circuit, Dallas.”
“Yeah,” he said, “right. But I hate to disappoint the good folks of Barren.”
“If I could fit you in, I would. I’m full up with contracts through December.”
Dallas hung up, then studied the ground under his feet. He scuffed at the dirt with the toe of his boot, the oldest pair he owned because work at the McMann ranch was dusty.
His brother came around the corner of the barn. “You planning to get anything done today? Or just stand there, admiring your Justins?”
“They’re not Justin Boots.” Dallas lifted his gaze to meet Hadley’s eyes. He couldn’t wear any brand except the one in his endorsement contract. “They’re Prestige.”
Hadley snorted. “You’ve been on that phone all morning. Doing what? Moving stocks and bonds around? Making investments?”
“Trying to find rodeo stock,” he said. “I’ve got a venue—at last—thanks to you and Clara, and some cowboys, but nothing for them to ride, rope or bulldog. Maybe this thing isn’t going to happen after all.”
“Huh. The sunshine boy sees a few clouds? I don’t suppose any contractor’s willing to ship stock to a place like this even for charity. I suppose you had the funds to pay but—”
“Hadley, you seem to think I’m a billionaire or something. I’m not. I had a good stash and have some investments, but they’re not liquid, and a big chunk of what I saved is gone.”
Hadley nodded. “Your parents, huh?” He knew they were Dallas’s chief concern.
“Yep. I wouldn’t change that.” He massaged the lingering slight ache in his hip. At least the cane now lived in a closet, and he’d cut his rehab to twice a week. “I can’t ride yet—even I know that—so I thought this would keep me from losing my mind until I can get back on the circuit.” And after last weekend, he kept expecting Lizzie to bail on him, leaving him to plan this thing on his own. Sure, she’d had a good time at the kids’ rodeo, even when she probably hadn’t wanted to, but he sensed something else was bothering her.
Hadley frowned. “So, what, now you’re a quitter? I almost drove away from this ranch not that long ago. I know how it feels to be down and out, deep inside yourself.” He spread his hands. “Look at me now, with a wife and kids. You ever consider retirement? How many years, how many seasons are you willing to risk yourself like that? Even without the money you’d like to earn, you’ll find a way to take care of your folks.”
Dallas studied his boots again. “I’m not ready to retire. I’m not looking to get married or, heaven forbid, have kids.” Which made him think of the children’s rodeo. Between events, Dallas had kept his eye on Lizzie, and he’d seen her cheer more than once, heard her laugh, which was like the soft tinkle of bells. And yet, with him, she kept her distance. He’d thought the awkwardness from May had eased, but maybe it hadn’t. “I won’t quit before I’ve made my mark.” He hesitated. “I’m never going to wind up like our birth parents—”
“You won’t, Dallas. We never will, and you have the Maguires.”
“I do,” he said, but that didn’t stop the memories he tried to ignore. In a heartbeat he was back there again, not with his birth family and their desperate addictions, but in that foster home, trapped in a locked room, hungry and afraid. Dallas drew a sharp breath. He didn’t want to delve into that, and Hadley must have seen the pained look on his face.
“You can take care of yourself now.” When Dallas didn’t respond, Hadley sighed. “What kind of stock do you need?”
“Everything.”
“I doubt anyone has a bucking bull to lend you, but then again, there’s my Angus out there in that pasture.” Hadley pointed toward his pride and joy. “Any bull will buck, given the right encouragement.”
“Yeah, and keep on bucking, come after any rider that dares to get on him. Rodeo bulls are specialists at payback.” Especially his nemesis, Greased Lightning.
Hadley went on anyway. “What about Sutherland’s new bull? He’s a beauty. Mean as a snake—Ned, I mean, not his bull.” Having made his little joke about Nell’s grandfather, he slapped Dallas on the back. “Help me shovel manure out of these stalls, then we’ll pay some calls.”
ELIZABETH WAS JUST putting her tote bag in the office that morning when someone swept through the front entrance of Olivia’s shop, banging the door against the wall. “We’re not open,” she called, but light footsteps kept coming across the showroom. Couldn’t people read signs? She shouldn’t have left the door unlocked. Unless... “Becca? Is that you?”
Her coworker had yet to come in, and she’d called in sick once last week. Elizabeth hadn’t seen her at the kids’ rodeo on Saturday. Although concerned by her own persistent nausea, she was also beginning to worry about the girl. Just then, her own mother appeared in the office doorway, her mouth pursed.
“Are you out of your mind, Elizabeth?”
Her mouth went dry. She pushed past Claudia into the main part of the store, not wanting to get trapped behind Olivia’s desk. She wouldn’t pretend to misunderstand. “No, and
