The Cowboy Way. Christine Wenger
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what you heard at the airport, but don’t pay any attention to it.”
“I heard that you were drunk and hurt a man.”
“I wasn’t drunk. I had a few beers, yes. I had some words with someone, and then suddenly we were in the middle of a free-for-all.” Jake sighed and looked away. After several seconds, his gaze returned to her. “Look, Wheelchair Rodeo begins the day after tomorrow, so if you’re having second thoughts about trusting me with Kevin, you’d better tell me now.”
She met his direct gaze. “I’m having second thoughts.”
“Fair enough.” He nodded. “Then take him out of the program.”
“It would break his heart,” she said. “You’re his hero. He idolizes you.”
“Lady, I’m no one’s hero. It’s all I can do these days to get up every morning.” He was speaking through gritted teeth. “And I might be a lot of things, but I’m not a drunk.”
That was just what Brad had always said.
Beth swallowed hard and glanced at Kevin to make sure he was out of hearing range. She knew she had angered Jake Dixon, but she had good reasons for not trusting him—or anyone, for that matter—with her son.
Maybe she owed him an explanation. “His father was an alcoholic,” she said. “He picked Kevin up at a friend’s birthday party. Brad was drunk and he drove his car into the cement of a bridge. Brad died and Kevin lived. After four operations in two years, Kevin’s still in a wheelchair. The doctors don’t understand why.”
“Oh…shoot…” He took off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair, then plopped the hat back on his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, watching Kevin. “But now at least I understand why you hate drinking.” He paused. “He’ll never get out of the chair?”
He touched her arm when she didn’t answer right away. It was an unexpected, comforting gesture. The look on his face was concerned and sympathetic. She wondered yet again if she was judging him too harshly.
She took a deep breath and jumped in. “Kevin’s last operation was supposed to work, but obviously it didn’t.” When the tears started to sting her eyes, she blinked them back. “He’s idolized you since he first met you at the Tucson rodeo. He was five years old. You paid attention to him, listened to him, and you gave him a red bandana. He’s never forgotten that, and one of the things that kept him going was his dream of coming to the Wheelchair Rodeo.”
“I’m honored, but—”
Beth held up an index finger. “Oh, there’s much more. Ever since then, he’s watched bull riding constantly on TV, looking for you, cheering you on. When he was in the hospital, he fought to stay awake to watch you being interviewed on Letterman during one of his hospital stays. Your fan club sent him a special autographed picture that has never left his sight. He wears your clothes. His room is covered in pictures of Jake Dixon. He thinks you’re the greatest thing since school recess.”
Jake met her gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You can promise me that you’ll be the hero he thinks you are.”
Jake stared down at the floor. “I can’t promise that.”
He shifted from foot to foot, and Beth sensed that he wanted to get as far away from her as possible.
“I’m just a cowboy. That’s all. I can guarantee you that he’ll have a good time at the ranch. I can teach him how to ride and rope and cook over a campfire, but if he needs a hero, he’d best look up to Jimmy Watley or Clint Scully or another cowboy.”
“But it’s you he idolizes.”
He shook his head as if he were shaking her words out, and walked toward Kevin, his boots making dull clicking noises on the cement.
She trailed behind him. Nobody’s hero? Kevin was only one little boy among thousands who worshiped the ground he walked on. He was the primary reason why Kevin worked so hard to get better. “Jake Dixon is tough, Mom. I am, too,” Kevin had told her.
She owed Jake Dixon. She owed him a lot.
“Have you picked one out yet?” Jake said to Kevin. “Remember, you have to take care of the horse all week. That means brushing, feeding, watering and taking care of the tack. Got it?”
“I can do it, Jake. I promise!”
“Then who will it be, Kev?” Jake asked.
“Killer.”
Beth closed the distance between them. “Killer?”
“Actually, his full name is Killer Bee, but we call him Killer for short,” Jake explained.
That didn’t make her feel any better. She didn’t want Kevin riding on a horse named Killer, even if it was a cute black horse with soulful black eyes.
She would have called him Thunder, like another fictional horse of her childhood she’d discovered in a library book. Her Thunder was a shiny, black horse with four white socks. She read the book over and over again until she just about had it memorized.
She looked over the stall door to see if Killer Bee had white socks. He didn’t, but he was still a beautiful horse.
Kevin fidgeted in his chair. “Will you take him out of the stall, Jake? I want to look at him all over.”
“Okay, Kev.”
With Kevin on the edge of his seat, Jake led Killer Bee out of his stall.
The horse sniffed at Kevin’s shirt as the boy giggled and reached out to pet him. “Just think,” said Kevin, “he’s mine for a week.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, met Beth’s eyes and waited for her reply.
She took a deep breath and prayed that she wouldn’t regret her decision. Kevin’s doctor felt that the horseback riding would be good for him, would strengthen his muscles. That would be wonderful for his broken body, but she knew that the Gold Buckle Ranch experience would do even more for Kevin’s morale.
“Yes, Kevin. He’s yours while we are here. Make sure you listen to Mr. Dixon—Jake—and learn how to take care of him.”
Jake gave a slight nod, obviously pleased with her decision. “Well, buckaroo, I’d best get you and your mom back to the Trail Boss Cabin so you both can get some rest.”
He put Killer back into his stall. “If I have time tomorrow, we can get a riding lesson in and maybe even a roping lesson. You can get a jump on the rest of the kids.”
“Cool. I brought my official Jake Dixon rope with me.”
Jake shrugged. “Huh?”
“I bought it from your official Web site for Kevin’s ninth birthday,” Beth explained.
“Oh. I forgot about that. My fan club runs the Web site,” he mumbled, then said to Kevin, “I’m sure it’s a good rope if you bought it from my official Web site.” He grinned.
“Well, it’s time we went to bed, cowboy,” Beth said. “It’s been a long day.”
Jake did a double-take, raised an eyebrow and pushed back his hat with a thumb. His eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Kevin,” she clarified, grinning in spite of herself. It was hard not to like Jake. “It’s time for bed, Kevin.”
Chapter Three
B eth woke to the scent of pine. A breeze lightly tossed the lace curtains. Sunlight flickered on her face, and she smiled. What a nice way to wake up. But why wake up yet? She turned over, scrunched the pillow to the perfect shape under her head and closed her eyes again.
“That’s awesome, Jake.”
Jake. That name again. She had dreamed