“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Lizzie asked Dallas.
“I’m fine. Why?”
It was Rodeo Day! At last, but his stomach was already tied in double knots. Even when he’d spotted her getting out of her car, the three kids in tow, and returned their waves, he’d felt close to running for the nearby Porta Potty.
Lizzie saw through his weak defense. “Really? You look very pale.”
In Serenity too, Calvin had pointed out his pallor. It was always like that, and at the moment he couldn’t even appreciate the uber-Western getups Lizzie’s children wore today. Jordan and Seth flaunted plaid shirts with the requisite pearl snaps, jeans and shiny boots. Though Stella sent him a jaundiced look, she apparently had some rodeo spirit too with a tan fringed leather skirt, green cowboy boots and a Barren Elementary School T-shirt. To his surprise, around her neck she wore the patterned scarf he’d bought her. The children had scattered, looking for their friends and checking out the horses in the paddock.
“I’ve been working since dawn,” he told Lizzie. “No breakfast. No time.”
“Clara didn’t feed you? I can’t believe that. You’re nervous, aren’t you?”
“Stage fright keeps me sharp. Gets the adrenaline flowing.”
Earlier, he’d helped Calvin and Hadley ready the horses and bulls, checked the makeshift gate they’d rigged up to the makeshift arena, even made a tour of the makeshift bleachers to test their strength, all the while he suffered from internal panic. It’s not as if this is the Finals, he thought, but people had begun streaming in half an hour ago, and the seats were filling up. His rodeo had been an idea before, a fantasy that had now become real.
It looked like every pickup truck in town was here. He saw Sawyer McCord get out of his truck with Olivia. They’d gotten home from Kedar only the day before so Sawyer could ride, jet-lagged as he must be. Cooper and Nell were already here, talking to friends and showing off her baby bump. He spied Clara bustling toward the white tents on the lawn. Dallas searched the crowd for Ace O’Leary, even though he knew his agent probably wouldn’t come. Dallas hadn’t talked to him in a while.
Soon it would be showtime. Sure, he’d won first place at Serenity’s local rodeo, this was not an official PBR event either, and he felt good today, but if he didn’t ride well, he’d have to face an ugly truth. Never mind that his hip had fully healed. His career might well be over or on its way. Then what? He’d be looking at the plan B he’d told Lizzie about. Stock contracting, TV, a ranch of his own, maybe even staying in Barren but without rodeo in his life.
He wiped a hand across his sweating forehead. “Really heating up out here. Gonna be a hot one. Did you give any more thought to Jordan competing?”
Lizzie hadn’t answered before her son raced out of the nearby barn and ran up to them. “Can I, Mom? Huh?” he asked as if he’d been standing there and overheard.
“May I,” Lizzie corrected him with an absent look. “How many times have I been asked that question, Jordan?”
Dallas twisted his bull rope in his shaking hands. He shouldn’t interfere. He wasn’t the boy’s father, so he should butt out. On the other hand, Lizzie was carrying his child, which ought to give him some rights. Might as well say what was on his mind. Dallas said mildly, “He’s a kid, Lizzie. Let him be one.”
She studied him, then Jordan, and let out a long breath. “I take no responsibility for this decision, but you may enter the mutton busting—”
Dallas interrupted her. “Looks like Jordan’s had a growth spurt this summer. His legs are long enough now, his feet would probably touch the ground. I’d say the sheep are out for him.”
“Steer riding, then?” Jordan’s eyes had all but popped out of his head.
“He’s old enough,” Dallas pointed out. “And the kids actually ride calves.”
She threw up her hands. “All of my fears for both of you have fallen on deaf ears. I hope you’re right. Okay, steers,” she said, and Jordan let out a whoop. He jumped up to give Lizzie a kiss even though, because of his age, he must consider any public show of affection to be uncool. Certainly, Dallas had as a kid, even with his mom.
He toyed with his bull rope again. “Jordan, better get over to the registration desk. You too,” he told Lizzie, wishing he didn’t have to say the rest, which concerned injury. “There’s a waiver you’ll need to sign, and it’s almost time for him to cowboy up.”
Lizzie jabbed a finger in Dallas’s chest. “If he breaks a leg, I will hold you responsible.” Her brow knitted. “And how safe will you be? Those are real bulls, tons of muscle, and your hand is trembling.”
His voice husky, he held her gaze. “That’s not because of the bulls.” Well, that too.
“All right, Romeo.” Glancing around at the now-crowded stands behind them, Lizzie said, “I’d give you a kiss for luck but—”
He sighed. “I know. People will talk. You’re right.” They shouldn’t jeopardize her kids.
Indeed, he spied Bernice Caldwell in the stands, and—was that Claudia Monroe? Did Lizzie realize her mother was here? Dallas turned his head and, through a gap in the bleachers, saw his own parents getting out of a taxi. He stared. Naturally they’d known about his rodeo, but he’d never expected them to actually be here. How could his mom travel?
His pulse, revved up by his closeness to Lizzie, settled a bit, but his hands still shook and his stomach rolled. He always wanted to ride well. Now his folks would be watching. So would Lizzie. So would Jordan. People were depending on him.
Stage fright or not, he really had to make sure his backside didn’t land in that dirt.
ELIZABETH’S MOTHER DIDN’T stay long in the bleachers. As soon as the parade to kick
