Rodeo Father. Mary Sullivan
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the white pony. What he could see of her above its body sure looked fine.
Freckles dotted a pert nose and strong cheekbones. Flecks of gold flashed in eyes lit with an inner glow.
That her hazel eyes and some of the streaks in her hair matched was about the most striking feature he’d ever seen on a woman.
One small freckle dotted her bottom lip.
The tiniest pair of silver cowboy boots hung from stars in her earlobes.
He wondered what the rest of her looked like. With her arms crossed on top of the pony, the too-long sleeves of a plaid flannel jacket covered most of her hands. Her right hand still gripped the wrench.
Inside the collar of her jacket was a prettier shirt collar, Western, pink with white piping and small white flowers embroidered on the tips.
She caught him studying the flowers. “Bitterroot,” she said. “Montana’s state flower.”
A straw cowboy hat with a pink band embroidered with more bitterroot flowers hung behind her on the center column of the ride.
She flung an arm wide to encompass the characters on the old ride. The pungent scent of fresh paint and turpentine wafted from the structure. “Take your pick. I’ve been fine-tuning the engine and oiling her parts to put her to bed for the winter. I need to test her. Might as well have a passenger on board while I do.”
She smiled again. “Waste of energy otherwise, running her with no one on her. This lovely old lady was made to be enjoyed.” In her voice, he heard a world of affection.
“Choose your animal and climb on,” she said.
Travis walked around the carousel and rubbed his hand across the backs of the odd animals—odd for an amusement park ride, that was. Along with the usual horses were a pair of bighorn sheep, a bison, a cow, a white-tailed deer and an elk, all wearing ornate saddles. Strangest darned ride he’d ever seen.
He chose a big black bull.
“Predictable,” Rachel muttered, tempering it with a humorous tone.
“Sorry to disappoint, ma’am, but I’ve never seen a bull on a carousel ride before. It’s big and sturdy.”
In her quick glance down his big body, he saw admiration, but her eyes shifted away too quickly. So was she attracted to him? Or not?
“The bull should hold your weight,” was all she said.
He mounted. It did. He held on to a pair of long hard horns.
“Ready when you are,” he called back over his shoulder when he heard her walk away behind him.
From somewhere near the center column of the big old thing, she called, “Here you go.”
He heard a lever being moved. The ride took a few arthritic strides. Then the engine kicked in and picked up speed.
His breath caught. There was something to be said for taking your first ride as an adult.
“Hang on to your hat, mister. You’re going for the ride of your life.”
On this old thing? Not likely.
He liked her sense of humor. Together, they could have a lot of fu-u-u-u-u-n-n—
The carousel picked up more speed than a machine this large and heavy should. Travis gripped the horns. A breeze rushed past his ears, filling them with whispered sighs and longings he’d thought he’d given up on years ago.
“You want music?” she called.
“Yeah!”
The toots and whistles of a calliope filled the air with the old Beatles song “All You Need Is Love.”
Stress, responsibility and apprehension fell away, lifting his spirits. When had he ever been free?
Unadulterated joy filled him, the kind kids never question, but that had never had a place in Travis’s childhood.
There’d been tangled bits of hope hidden in miserly corners of his world, but there had never been joy.
He let go of the horns and spread his arms wide. The cool wind worked its way through his jacket and shirt, filling him with vitality and refreshing his tired mind. The sun, having finally burned off the morning fog, melted the permafrost of his heart.
His cowboy hat, part of his head for nearly twenty years, flew off.
A huge laugh startled out of him, snatched immediately by the wind and caught by Rachel. He heard her laugh in response.
After a time, the ride slowed and he wiped rivers of tears from his cheeks. He wasn’t crying. No. It was just the wind.
He smiled harder than he had in a long, long time.
“That’s more like it,” Rachel said as she waddled over, satisfaction tinting her tone. “That’s the kind of smile I like to see on a man’s face.”
Whoa. Back up. Waddled?
Her pregnant belly stuck out a mile. His dreams of warm winter nights, a fire in the hearth and a willing partner deflated like a weather balloon in a snowstorm.
The woman was about to pop. What was she having? Triplets?
When other people saw pregnant women, they got warm fuzzies. Not Travis.
Pregnant women made him think about being trapped, about expectations and responsibilities. He’d had his fill of those. Still did. Big time.
He had one big responsibility to handle in this town before hitching a ride on the next good breeze and heading back out.
Reluctantly, he dismounted, his dreams slow to die. But die they did. As always.
Oh, Lord, mischief lurked in Rachel’s hazel eyes. Damn the woman. She’d known exactly how attracted he’d been to her and how shocked he was now.
“Nice meeting you, Travis. I’m sure we’ll see each other around town.” She handed him his hat.
He settled it onto his head slowly, tamping it down with a hard tug, the grown man firmly back in place.
“Thank you, ma’am.” He might be disappointed in her pregnancy, but she’d given him a gift. His gratitude was sincere. He adjusted his expectations and left the carousel, his stride long and fierce.
He couldn’t get away fast enough, driving without a backward glance.
He didn’t believe in new beginnings. No matter where he went, he always ended up in the same old place.
Not so for his nephews. Travis wouldn’t let that happen to Jason and Colt. Damned if he would let them down. They deserved a good home, and he would create one for them here in Rodeo. They would get more out of childhood than he ever had.
Screw your head on right, Travis. Disappointment never killed a man. Get on with it.
With purpose compelling him forward, he put Rachel out of his mind and drove straight to the Double U, where he pulled up in front of a sprawling ranch house with cedar siding and red shutters framing wide windows.
No one answered the front door when he knocked.
He’d been here once before, the day he’d been hired, put in touch with the Webers by an acquaintance, a cowboy he respected and trusted.
That day, he’d taken a tour of the town and had known immediately it would work for Samantha and the boys.
He’d chosen a house for them, one that had been put on the market just a half hour before he stepped into the real estate office. The down payment had been a result of years of having nothing to spend his paycheck on but himself...and he didn’t need much.
A good, solid house. Needed some work, but it had been built well. A safe town. Meant to be.
Travis might not believe in good omens for himself, but he did