Chapter Fourteen
A loud clank woke her from a light sleep. Channing opened her eyes and realized the trailer was bumping up and down like a logging truck, which meant they were still tooling down the highway.
She lifted her head from where it’d been resting beside Colby’s bare chest. She looked up, expecting to see him sleeping, but his eyes were open and he was staring at her.
He smiled gently. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been run over by a buckin’ bull and a wild bronc.” Channing kissed his left pec. “You were run over by a bull and a bronc today.”
“Well, no wonder I’m feelin’ it.” Colby absentmindedly twisted a section of hair around his finger. “Thanks for stickin’ around.”
“You’re welcome.” She pushed up. “I probably need to get some more ice for your hand.”
“My hand is fine.”
“Do you need—”
He pulled her back down. “I need you to stay snuggled up to me like this. It’s makin’ me feel much better, shug.”
“Oh.”
“Of course, I’d feel even more like my old self if you took off the rest of your clothes.”
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“Okay. Scoot closer. I like havin’ your softness and warmth wrapped around me. It’s like heaven, bein’ with you.” They stayed cocooned together in companionable silence. Colby dragged the fingers of his left hand up and down her spine.
Finally, he said, “I guess you found out about Trevor and Edgard, huh?”
Her stomach did a little flip. “Yeah.”
“Kinda shockin’ to see them like that, ain’t it? That’s how I found out.
I walked in on them. Wanted to gouge my eyes out with a hot poker afterward.”
“And it doesn’t bother you? I mean, you’re still traveling with them.
You haven’t gotten them blackballed to the ‘gay’ rodeo circuit or anything. Especially if people do find out, they might assume you’re just like them.”
He snorted. “I ain’t gay. Or bi. I gotta be honest, I don’t understand it, wantin’ to be with another guy.” A small shiver worked through him.
“Trevor never once made advances toward me like that or I’da busted him in the chops—and he and I have had our share of threesomes so there’s been ample opportunities. Damn. It’s just plain weird. I think it must be something about Edgard alone that he’s attracted to. Trev and I have been friends for our whole lives. We’ve been damn near as close as brothers. I always jokingly said that he’d f*ck anything that walked, only I didn’t know how true that actually was.”
“Aren’t most cowboys highly homophobic?”
“Yeah.”
“Including you?”
“Yeah. If it would’ve been somebody else I’d seen doin’ that…I might not have been so understandin’. Then I think about if someone else would’ve discovered them before I knew about it. How they might’ve started vicious rumors to get them blackballed from the circuit. Bugs me because I ain’t like that.
“What they do is their business. Besides, Trev is with women just as often as I am. Or as I was before you. I don’t think many people—even 160
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folks who know them well—would believe that he and Edgard are more than ropin’ partners.”
For the first time she thought there might be another reason why Colby had been eager to have her ride the circuit with them. “So having me traveling with you guys is good for everybody? A cover story for them, so to speak? The girl willing to do all three cowboys, when in fact, two of the cowboys are content just to do each other?” Colby didn’t say anything.
Channing raised her head and looked at him. “What?”
“I didn’t ask you to come along for them, Channing. I asked you to come along for me. I want you here.”
“Why me?”
“Because something about your fire and sweetness called out to me.
From the first time I saw you, Chan, I knew you were just as lonely as I was. Stubborn about it, too.” He closed his eyes. “Can we talk about this later, darlin’? I’m getting tired again.” She wanted to demand they finish the conversation now. Instead, she waited until he was dozing and untangled from his embrace. No way could she go back to sleep after that.
Colby was still out by the time they reached Valentine. The motels were full, so it appeared they’d all be sleeping in the horse trailer at the rodeo grounds for at least a night.
While Trevor took care of the horses, Channing and Edgard made a run for food. They didn’t talk, letting the country music on the radio fill the void in the truck.
But Channing couldn’t stand it any longer. She’d keep the conversation neutral, but dammit, they were going to talk to each other and stop playing this avoidance game. She said, “Tell me how a Brazilian www.samhainpublishing.com 161
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ended up team roping and tie-down roping on the American rodeo circuit.”
Edgard turned down Reba McIntyre’s “Fancy” . “My mother came to America as a foreign exchange student when she was in high school. She met my father at a rodeo when she was seventeen. She ended up pregnant and they got married. About a year after I was born, my birth father died in a car accident.
“My mother was only eighteen, a widow, a foreigner with a baby and no way to support herself. So she returned to her family in Brazil. A couple of years later she married the man I consider my real father. But she kept in touch with my birth father’s parents. After I graduated from high school, I came to the US for a few months to meet them. I’ve been coming here on and off for about ten years.”
“Where do they live?”
“Outside of Laramie, which is where I met Trevor. Anyway, because I was raised on a ranch in Brazil, I realized I could make big money here on the rodeo circuit.” Edgard shot her a dark look. “Here’s where you could point out I’m not making big money now, chica.” She scowled. “But I’m not like that, Edgard. I’ve got enough things in my own life that need fixed before I’ll pass judgment on other people’s problems, financial or otherwise.”
“Sorry. That was a cheap shot.” He sighed. “At one time I did earn money through bull riding and bulldogging, enough that I bought a ranch in Brazil about an hour away from my parents. It is so beautiful.
Lush and green and secluded. I miss it.”
“So how come you’re not there?”
Edgard tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he brooded out the window. “I’m beginning to wonder that, too.”
“Trevor doesn’t know what to do about you being in love with him, does he?”
He whipped toward her, his mouth open. “How did you know?”
“I guessed.” Channing held up a hand at his immediate protest. “It’s not obvious to other people. But because our circumstances—you know, 162
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the supposed free-for-all sex, and you not really being into it at all, and then seeing you guys together today…”
Edgard brooded some more. “Have you talked to Trevor?”
“No. I won’t either. You can trust me. But I want to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Trevor doesn’t consider himself gay. So there’s no way he’ll let you two be together, as a real couple, ‘out’ in a relationship, right?”
“Right.”
“So why are you still here in the US? Following him and the rodeo circuit instead of being at the ranch you love so much?”
“Because I love him more. Or at least I thought I did.” Edgard parked the truck and leaned his head back into the headrest. “At the beginning of the year, Trevor hinted around he might be interested in coming to Brazil. Permanently. Living with me. Helping me raise cattle on the ranch. And he made it sound like he wouldn’t keep pretending we were just roping partners. That maybe we could be partners in the truest sense of the word. No more hiding.”
“But?”
“But first he wanted to spend another year trying to get to the NFR in the team roping. Trying to make his father proud. Trying to prove himself.”
“I sense another ‘but’ coming.”
“But as I’m here, spending another summer with him, chasing his dream, getting our asses beat on the circuit every damn day, I’ve begun to realize he is too afraid to be with me the way I need him to be. That my dreams don’t matter to him, maybe they never have.” He laughed bitterly.
“I don’t even mind the women. I’ve known since the first time we were together that he really is bisexual. I’m not. I never can be. I’ve never wanted to be.” Edgard gave her an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry.”
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“Thank you for that. Trevor’s family is very traditional. He’d be disowned if his family knew about us.”
“And your family?”
“My family knows I’m gay. They’ve accepted it and accepted me. So when I’m there, I have a hard time understanding why Trevor can’t just be what he is and not care what other people think. When I’m here, in the US, I have to pretend to be something I’m not. And Trevor can’t seem to make up his mind what he wants either way.”
“Is it worth it?”
“I don’t know. Being with him is like a drug. When we’re competing together, it’s like we’re really a team. When we’re f*cking it’s like we’re really in love. Every other time it sucks, like coming down off a really great high. And lately, the highs have been few and far between.” His body went rigid for a second. “Shit. Sorry. Probably more than you wanted to know, eh?”
“No. Thanks for being honest with me. I’ve spent my whole life with people pretending to be who they’re not and expecting me to be the same shallow person. That’s why I ran away with the rodeo.”
“Are you finding people are more real here?”
“Some more than others.” Channing reached for his hand. “Like I told you the other day. I’d like for us to be friends, because the truth is, I could use one.”
Edgard squeezed her hand. “Anytime, chica.” By the time they unwrapped the sandwiches and set out the rest of the food, Trevor was back from exercising the horses and Colby had shambled down from the sleeping area. He looked like hell. Channing had to bite her tongue against demanding he go back to bed.
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The meal was sort of strange, in that with all the sexual things the four of them had done together, it was the first time they’d eaten a meal in the same place.
Colby wasn’t a good dinner companion. He complained about the onions on the sandwiches. The lack of beer. He grumbled about having to clean himself up in the tiny shower. When his cell phone rang, Channing was grateful for the chance to escape.
She wandered through the grounds. It was a lovely night, the humidity softened the air so it seemed to soothe her and caress her skin like warm velvet. Lots of folks were sitting outside enjoying the evening, drinking beer. Some kids were practicing throwing ropes. She really didn’t have any idea where she was headed until she saw the glare of the arena lights and the empty bleachers.
A couple of gals were taking turns running the barrels.
Channing stayed there, hanging on the fence, on the outside looking in—again—and wondered if she’d ever find a place in her life where she fit in.
She fit with Colby. How he’d recognized her loneliness the first time he’d seen her blew her away. She thought she’d kept that secret well hidden. But she’d noticed things about him too that he’d shrugged off as no big deal.
The soft clip-clop of horse’s hooves sounded behind her. She spun and saw Gemma astride a bay mare.
“Channing! Girl, what’re you doin’ out here all by yourself?”
“Getting some fresh air. What are you doing?”
“Letting Daisy here stretch her legs.” Gemma patted the horse’s neck.
“She’s a social butterfly. She wants to see who’s hanging around the paddock. Mostly I think she’s got her eye on cozying up to one of them cutting horse studs.”
“She’s beautiful.”
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Channing laughed. “Can I tell you something completely embarrassing?”
Gemma grinned. “You don’t know how to ride a horse, do you?”
“Nope. Not the first thing about it.”
“Well, lucky you’ve got me to teach you.”
“The teacher being taught, that has a nice ring to it.”
“You’re a teacher?”
“Yep.”
“Wow. That’s great. What age group?”
“I’m supposed to teach high school in the fall. But my real love would be elementary kids.”
“Why can’t you switch and do that?”
Channing sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time. Come on, help me bed Daisy down for the night and we’ll talk about making you into a real horsewoman.” Channing wished she would’ve brought her notebook. There was so much more to taking care of a horse than she’d ever dreamed. Gemma chatted as she performed the tasks she’d done a million times. When she finished she said, “Early tomorrow we’ll get saddled up.”
“I don’t know…”
“It’ll be fun, I promise.” She wiped a gloved hand across her forehead, leaving a smear of dirt. “I got beer in the trailer if you want one.” Channing thought it’d be rude to point out the smudge so she didn’t.
“I’d love a beer.”
“Good. Let’s sit outside, soak in the night. I hate being cooped up all day in the damn truck.”
At her campsite, Gemma pulled out two lawn chairs and a six-pack of Bud Light. She popped the tops on two cans, handed one to Channing and toasted her. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
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After a long pull of beer, Gemma sighed and propped her booted feet on the cooler. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about. This is getting to be my favorite time of day.” She grinned. “Beer o’clock.” Channing laughed.
“So, tell me, Channing Kinkaid, who you are, and why you’re running with the rodeo and a buncha cowboys. You look smarter than that.” Again, Channing laughed and gave Gemma the long version of her life, the run down of her crises and conflicts and the temporary escape from it.
Gemma looked thoughtful for a minute as she finished her second beer. Then she said, “Sounds like you got out in the nick of time.”
“But I do have to go back,” Channing pointed out.
“You don’t gotta do nothin’ you don’t want to. That’s the beauty of being young and where you’re at in your life.”
“By blowing off my obligations?” she countered.
“Only person you’re obligated to make happy is yourself. Is Colby McKay helpin’ you blow off some steam and taking some of the starch out of your spine?”
“You might say that.”
“And since I’ve got no life and no shame, my next question…is he any good?”
Channing sipped her beer before she let a slow smile tilt the corners of her mouth. “Oh, yeah.”
“Come on, girl. Details. Vivid details.”
“You’ve seen him on broncs?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, rough stock ain’t the only thing he can ride like a wild man.
And he can ride long and ride hard, all night.” Gemma hooted. “Keep goin’.”
“You know the phrase ‘hung like a bull’?”
“Uh-huh.”
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Channing leaned forward. “Bulls ain’t got nothin’ on him. And believe me, when he’s riding, bucking him off is the last thing on my mind.”
“Oh. My. God. I need another goddamn beer. Better yet, give me some ice out of that cooler.”
“Come on, Gemma. This isn’t anything you haven’t heard before, right?”
“About Colby? Or men in particular?”
“Both.”
“That your way of fishin’ for information on Colby?”
“Can’t put anything over on you, huh, Gem?” She snorted. “Okay. I’m gonna admit that I know Colby’s folks a little better than I know him. Our ranches are only about two hours apart.
“So, here’s what I know about your rough rider. He likes ‘em young.
He likes ‘em once and then he likes ‘em gone.” Gemma tipped her can toward Channing. “So as I see it, from my years of wisdom, you’ve clean busted out of all three molds he likes to put his women in. Just maybe there’s more to what’s goin’ on with you two than a short summer fling.”
“I doubt it.” Channing chalked up the increased beat of her heart to beer, not hope. “What about you? How long have you been a widow?”
“Two and a half, long, lonely years.”
“And in that time…” Channing trailed off expectantly.
Gemma sank a little lower in her lawn chair. “In that time I haven’t done the mattress mambo. Not once.”
“Why not? You’re pretty, you’re fun, you’re bright, you’re respected, you know everything about rodeo stock—”
“But I’m old, Channing.”
Channing frowned. “Old. Right. What ancient age are you? Thirty-five? Thirty-six?”
“Either you are my new best friend for saying that or Colby’s gift for charm is wearing off on you.” Gemma smiled briefly before she fiddled with the pop-top on her beer can. “I’m forty-seven.” Channing whistled. “Wow. You don’t look it.” 168
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“I feel it. Lord. I see those young thangs—” she gestured with her can,
“—like you and those eighteen-year-olds with the perky tits, and the pert asses and the pierced belly buttons…and hell, they are something to behold. Sleek and slick and sexy and can perform more fancy moves in public than a trick rider. No wonder no man my age looks at me twice.” Channing wondered if Gemma had noticed that Cash Big Crow always looked at her—way more than twice. Surely Gemma couldn’t be that blind?
“You know how they say what goes around comes around? Well, must be karma biting me on the ass.” Gemma tossed her beer can in the pile on the ground. “Believe it or not, I was one of those hot little numbers when I was eighteen. Looking at older widowed women with contempt. Thinking they were ancient. They ought to just go back home, take up knitting and leave the wild living to the good-time girls like me.
“Ironically enough, I didn’t end up with one of those dreamy young cowboys my age who circled me like studs around a mare in season. I married a man old enough to be my daddy.” Crickets chirped in the immediate silence.
Channing crushed her beer can under her heel. “Oh, come on, Gemma. You can’t start a story like that and then expect me to fill in the blanks or to sit here politely and not demand to know what happened.
Spill it.”
She smiled. “Short version: I had a terrible home life growing up. We were poor, lived in rural Wyoming, my father was abusive, my mother just took his mean mouth and his flying fists by drinkin’ herself into oblivion. I wanted better. After I graduated from high school, I moved to Sheridan and worked as a waitress.
“Bright lights, big city, right? I lived in a shitty trailer with two other waitresses and worked my ass off, still going nowhere fast. And to top it off, even though I couldn’t wait to get away from my family I was so damn lonely.”
Channing froze. Hadn’t she and Colby talked about loneliness earlier?
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“About that same time, this older rancher—he was all of forty-one—
would come in and sit in my section. He came in every single day, sometimes twice a day, for four months. A real gentleman cowboy. He was quiet. Polite. A great listener. Generous. Sweet.” She closed her eyes.
“Lord, he was so damn sweet. Totally the opposite of any man I’d ever known.”
“You fell for him?”
“Not at first. I wanted me a flashy guy. I started hanging out at rodeos. Figuring a big buckle meant a big man. Hearing promises that turned out to be lies. Then one night, while I was whooping it up, not having nearly as much fun as I thought I should’ve been, I saw that quiet rancher from the diner. On his horse. Getting ready to compete in the bulldogging event.
“It kinda threw me for a loop because I never expected him to be the type of guy who’d take dangerous risks. He always seemed…solid.
Boring. So I left my friends and snuck closer to the chutes so I could watch him compete.
“He burst out of that gate, all strength and poise and agility. Not showing an ounce of fear as he launched himself off his horse and at that steer. Flipping three hundred pounds of animal into submission in the dirt like it was nothin’. Then he calmly stood up and checked his time.
For some reason he spun my direction and saw me hanging on the railing, my jaw practically dragging on the ground from shock.
“He brushed the dirt from his jeans as he moseyed toward me. The whole time he kept coming at me, taking those slowly measured steps; his eyes never left my face. It was like I was the only one in the arena.
Like I was the only one in the world. And then I knew.”
“That you loved him?”
She smiled again, but it was wistful, slightly sad. “That came later, but not much later. No. I knew then that quiet power and understated grace were the true measure of a good man, not the size of his belt buckle or his intentions.”
“What happened?”
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“He stopped in front of me. He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. Then he ran his rough fingers down the line of my jaw. It was the first time he’d ever touched me. So softly, yet, so…confidently.
Like he knew just what I needed. He said, ‘Gemma Mae, don’t you think it’s time you quit foolin’ yourself and come on home with me where you belong?’”
Tears pricked Channing’s eyes and she swallowed hard.
“I went home with him that night and never looked back.”
“Omigod. I think I’m gonna cry. That is the most beautiful, romantic story I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, it is. Come to think of it, you’re the first person I’ve ever told that to.”
“Now I’m really gonna start bawling.”
“Well, you can understand why I’ve been a little reluctant to bring another man into my life and into my bed.” She grinned saucily.
“Especially when gentleman Steve Jansen had moves between the sheets, in the barn, on the kitchen table and anywhere else the mood struck him that’d probably give your Colby a run for his money for inventiveness.
The last thing Steve ever was, in or out of bed, was boring. God, he was good. With one look he could heat me up like fire and melt me like butter.”
“I’m sorry that’s he’s gone, Gemma.”
“Me too. Not only do I miss Steve every goddamn day, I miss that daily physical connection. I miss sex. But when you’ve had twenty-five years of bust-the-bed-frame-scream-out-loud-raw-and-sweet-and-raunchy sex, I’m afraid anything else would be a let down. But what I wouldn’t give for a second chance to have it again.” Channing wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by Gemma’s brutal honesty. The answering silence between them wasn’t clumsy, just thoughtful.
The grass crunched behind them and Gemma craned her neck.
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“Cash, were you using your Indian stealth again to sneak up on us and listen to our private conversation?” Gemma demanded.
“Gemma!” Channing said, appalled.
Cash didn’t smile. In fact, he had the oddest expression on his face.
He didn’t look at Channing either, but at Gemma, even as he addressed his comments to Channing. “Don’t mind Gem. She knows I wouldn’t show her my secret Indian tricks unless she asked me nice. Real nice.”
“Keep dreaming,” Gemma said.
He chuckled. “I will. Channing, I tracked you down to tell you Colby is lookin’ for you. You want me to walk you back?”
“No, that’s fine. I can find my way.” She stood and stretched. “Thanks for the beer and the girl talk, Gemma.”
“Anytime. See you bright and early, right?”
“Right. I’ll be here with bells on.”
“Have a good night. Ride ‘em hard, girl.” Channing snickered and gave Gemma a high-five.
Cash cocked his head and looked from Channing to Gemma. “I’m afraid to ask what that meant.”
“You should be.” Gemma sailed to her feet. “Then again, it’s more of a
‘hands on’ thing anyway.”
“Yeah? Well, luckily I ain’t got nowhere to be right now. You could demonstrate by puttin’ your hands on me all you want.” Gemma laughed, a trifle nervously.
Cash took another step closer and frowned. He lifted his hand and rubbed his fingertips across Gemma’s forehead. Gently. Three times.
“What are you doing?”
“You got a smudge of dirt right there, and a piece of grass stuck in your hair. You been rollin’ around in the hay?”
“There’ve been no rolls in the hay for me for a long time,” Gemma retorted.
“That’s a damn cryin’ shame,” Cash said softly.
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The air thickened. Channing held her breath, feeling like an interloper.
“Ah. Well, good night, Cash.”
“’Night, Gem. Sweet dreams, sweetheart.” Cash turned to Channing. “Come on, I’ll walk you over anyway.” After they’d reached the horse trailer, Channing said, “You know, Cash, you really should take a more direct approach with Gemma. The Indian stealth stuff isn’t working. She doesn’t have a clue that you’re so crazy about her.”
Before his face could turn any redder, Channing blew him a kiss and closed the door in his face.
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