Rodeo Dad Read online

  “And you got it?” she asked.

  “Not hardly.” He laughed derisively. “For a moment I forgot just how small Mustang was. Apparently the Emerys’ power reaches into all corners. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve got a better plan than a loan ”

  His eyes sparked with the same light they’d had when he was nineteen. The light was warm, filled with hope, and hypnotically beckoned Marissa in. “And what’s this plan of yours?” she asked, trying to still the erratic pounding of her heart.

  “Starting Monday, I’ve got a part-time job working at the Gallagher ranch,” he said, a touch of defiance in his tone.

  “Cameron Gallagher? He’s a nice guy. He’s got the cutest stepdaughter you ever saw.” She kept her voice carefully neutral, knowing the enormous step he’d taken in deciding to work for another rancher

  Ranchers rarely worked any place but their own land, and if they did, it was usually the last step before complete bankruptcy. But, for Johnny, she knew it was his first step toward his own redemption.

  “And I’m entering the bull-riding event at the rodeo next month.”

  “You’re crazy,” Marissa said, calmly. She stared at him to see if perhaps he was joking.

  “What’s crazy about it?” he demanded. He shoved away from the counter and paced the floor of the flower store like a caged animal, his fingers dancing around the brim of the hat he held. “working for Cameron part-time is the only way I can stay afloat for the time being.”

  Marissa frowned, knowing he was being obtuse by choice. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  He grinned, like a mischievous boy. “Guess that means you’re talking about my plans to enter the bull-riding event.”

  “Of course that’s what I’m talking about,” she said, sarcastically. “Johnny, you know how dangerous bull riding can be. You might have been good at it at one time, but that was years ago.”

  “Actually, it’s been less than a year since I rode a bull.” Johnny picked up a heart-shaped glass vase, the object looking exceptionally small and dainty in his grasp. He turned it over and looked at the price tag. He winced. “My God, do people actually pay that kind of money for a vase?”

  Marissa walked around the counter and snatched the vase out of his hands. “What do you mean, you rode bulls less than a year ago?” She set the vase back where it belonged.

  “In prison. A couple of times a year, some of the towns surrounding the prison would hold a rodeo. The prisoners with good behavior records were given the opportunity to participate. For the past five years, I’ve ridden the bulls in various rodeos. Three out of the five years, I was the reigning champion.”

  “And what do you win?” She couldn’t imagine what prizes prisoners would receive for winning any contest in prison.

  “Privileges. Extra time in the yard for exercise, getting to see an approved movie.” He shrugged. “Different things that people who aren’t in prison take for granted.”

  “What happened the other two years?” she asked, remembering he’d said he’d been champion three out of five years.

  Johnny stopped pacing and instead leaned against the plate glass window, his eyes lit with the distance of memory and the fever of challenge. “The first year I drew a devil Brahman bull named Black Heart, and I wasn’t on his back for two seconds before he sent me skyward.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “But Black Heart was easy compared to the bull I drew the next year. Tornado.” He said the name as if that told the whole story.

  “What happened?” Marissa asked, caught between natural curiosity and a reluctance to encourage him.

  He began pacing once again, moving back and forth directly in front of Marissa. Each time he drew near, she smelled his scent, the evocative fragrance of musky aftershave and a fresh spring breeze.

  “Tornado had a set of horns as sharp as twin knives and a furious left spin that usually unseated most riders. I almost rode him to the buzzer. Had I been stronger, better prepared, I would have had him. Unfortunately, Tornado unexpectedly twisted right instead of left and I flew off. I landed on the ground and before I could get up, Tornado expressed his displeasure with me.”

  Marissa’s heart was in her throat. “You were hurt?”

  Johnny smiled. “Let’s just say I spent a little time in the prison infirmary following the rodeo. Want to see the memento Tornado left me with?”

  “Okay,” Marissa said. “Wait!” she exclaimed as he began to unbuckle his belt.

  “I thought you wanted to see my scar,” he said innocently. But his gaze was anything but innocent.

  “Not if it requires you to drop your pants,” Marissa replied, heat rising to her face.

  He shrugged with another mischievous grin. “Your loss,” he said. “I’ve been told the scar looks just like a heart.”

  “I know exactly what you’re doing, Johnny Crockett,” Marissa said in an accusing tone. “You’re trying to get me all flustered so I’ll forget to tell you how crazy you are.”

  Johnny laughed. “Ah, Marissa, you’ve always been difficult to detour from your goals.”

  “Johnny, please reconsider entering the rodeo, or at least enter another event.” She placed her hand on his forearm, desperate to change his mind.

  “I can’t enter any other event,” he scoffed. “Bull riding is my talent, it’s what I do.”

  “That’s not true,” Marissa protested. “You’re a rancher, Johnny.”

  He shook off her hand, a flash of anger firing in his eyes. “I was a rancher. Now I’m a convicted murderer. I can’t ranch without money, Marissa. And nobody in this town is going to give me half a chance.”

  “Cameron Gallagher is giving you a chance,” she said. “Work for him, put that money back into your place.”

  “You know I’ll never get ahead by doing that. I need that prize money. I need to win the bull-riding event. It’s the only way I’ll be able to build something to pass on to my son.”

  “All your son needs is his father.” Again Marissa grasped his arm. “Benjamin needs you alive and well. Why risk being badly hurt...or worse?”

  He looked down at her hand, then covered it with his own. When he looked at her again, his expression was one of deep yearning. “Marissa, I need to be more than what I am right now for Benjamin. I want more to offer our son.”

  “Having you in his life is enough,” she replied softly.

  “No, it’s not enough.” He stepped away from her and raked a hand through his hair. “If I win that prize money I can start a college fund for Benjamin and use some of the money to restore and update the ranch so that one day he’ll have something worthwhile from me.”

  He stepped toward her once again and placed his hands on the sides of her face. “It’s all or nothing for me, Marissa. If I don’t at least try by entering the rodeo, then I don’t deserve him calling me dad. For Benjy, I’ll take my chances on a bull.”

  He dropped his hands and forced a light laugh. “Hell, I survived ten years of prison, I can survive eight seconds on the back of a bull.”

  Marissa wanted to change his mind. Her fear for his safety ran deep and heavy. She’d been to too many rodeos, seen too many men forever crippled or maimed by the bulls. However, before she could say another word, Benjamin flew through the door.

  “Hi, Dad,” he said, his delight in seeing his father obvious on his miniature features. “Hi, Mom, I made you a card today in art class.” He handed Marissa a colorful card that read “Happy Mother’s Day” on the front, and “I love you” on the inside.

  “Thanks, honey,” Marissa said and grabbed him long enough to kiss him on the cheek.

  “Ah, Mom,” he replied, swiping at his cheek as if in distaste He smiled at Johnny. “Are you coming to my play tonight?”

  “Play? What play?” Johnny asked and cast a sideways look to Marissa.

  Instantly guilt swept through Marissa. She should have told Johnny about the school play.

  “There’s a play at Benjamin’s school thi
s evening,” she explained.

  “And I’m gonna sing a solo,” Benjamin said.

  “A solo? I don’t see how I can miss it,” Johnny replied. “How about we all ride together to the school? What time does the play begin?”

  “Six,” Benjamin said, “but I have to be there at five-thirty.”

  “Then why don’t I pick up you and your mom at around five-fifteen?”

  “Super!” Benjamin exclaimed. “I’m gonna go sweep up the backroom. I’ll see you tonight, Dad.” With these words, he disappeared into the backroom.

  “You might have asked me before talking to him about us all riding together,” Marissa said, feeling as if she’d somehow been manipulated.

  “You might have told me about the program,” he returned evenly.

  She nodded, knowing he was right. “You’re right, I should have told you about it. But, you have to understand, I’ve parented Benjamin alone for nine years. It’s going to take me some time to remember to share.”

  “Fair enough. Is there a reason you might not want me to go to the program? If that’s the case, I can think of something to tell Benjy.” His gaze was dark as he waited for her reply. “Are your parents going to be there?”

  “No, they can’t make it this evening. Dad has some sort of a meeting. And of course there’s no reason I wouldn’t want you to come But we aren’t going home. You can pick us up here. We’ll be ready for you at five-fifteen ”

  The bell jangled and two young girls walked in, their boisterous voices filling the small confines.

  “I’ll see you later,” Johnny mouthed, then strode out the door.

  It wasn’t until after Marissa had taken care of her customers and hung the Closed sign on the door that she had time to reflect on Johnny’s visit.

  His plan to enter the rodeo worried her. The price he might possibly pay seemed far too high for the reward offered.

  Benjamin didn’t care what kind of tangible things his father had to offer him. All Benjamin cared about was having his father as an emotional, loving support in his life.

  But Marissa knew Johnny wouldn’t be deterred from his plans. He would enter the rodeo. Marissa didn’t care if he won or not. She knew all she could do was pray for his safety.

  She also knew why Johnny had asked if she had a problem with the three of them attending the school play together.

  If Johnny went with Benjamin and her, then by tomorrow morning the entire town would know that Johnny was Benjamin’s father.

  It had been a mistake inviting himself along with Marissa and Benjamin to the school play. Johnny knew it was a mistake the moment Benjy and Marissa got into his truck and Marissa’s scent filled the interior.

  Flowers, with a hint of mysterious spice, it was the same fragrance she’d worn years ago. The memory of that fragrance had tormented him for ten long years.

  Not only did she smell good enough to eat, she looked gorgeous enough to ravish. She wore a navy dress, cinched with a belt at her slender waist. The dress draped becomingly down her hips, ending just above her shapely knees. The dark material emphasized her blond hair and the square neckline exposed her delicate collarbones.

  Johnny clenched his hands on the steering wheel, fighting against his physical response to her utter attractiveness.

  Instead he tried to focus on his son, sitting next to him. “You nervous about your solo?” he asked.

  “Nah. I like to sing, and it doesn’t bother me to do it in front of people. I sang a solo in church last year and everyone told me I sounded like an angel.”

  “You must take after your grandma Crockett,” Johnny said. “She had a voice like an angel, too.” He was surprised by his memory of his mother’s voice.

  “I didn’t know your mother sang,” Marissa said.

  Johnny loosened his grip on the wheel, relaxing somewhat as he thought of his mother. “She sang all the time when I was little. She sang while she washed dishes, sang while she vacuumed or picked tomatoes.”

  He frowned. “She stopped singing after my father left. I missed it.” He swallowed the emotion that had suddenly crept into his throat. “Anyway, I can’t wait to hear you sing,” he said to his son.

  “I like to sing. It makes me happy,” Benjy said.

  Johnny smiled. “Have you ever heard your mother sing?”

  Benjamin nodded and winced. “No offense, Mom, but it’s bad.”

  “I can’t help it that I’m a little tone-deaf,” Marissa said, defensively.

  “A little? One time your mom and I were walking in the pasture and she started singing and the cows all bawled and ran away,” Johnny said.

  Benjamin cupped a hand over his mouth and giggled, the sound musical and sweet.

  “And another time she was singing and a neighbor called 911 because she thought somebody was hurt,” Johnny fabricated, rewarded with another of Benjamin’s giggles. His laughter was music to Johnny’s ears, but Marissa’s laughter was like succor for his soul.

  “Your father is telling whoppers,” Marissa said to her son, but her eyes were lit with merriment. “I might not be able to sing, but your father can’t dance. He has two left feet. The one time I danced with him, I had to go to the hospital and have little casts put on all the toes he stepped on.”

  Johnny laughed aloud at her story. “And you accuse me of telling whoppers?”

  Benjamin placed a hand on Johnny’s knee and his other hand on Marissa’s. “This is fun,” he said.

  Fun. He’d forgotten how much fun Marissa could be. Not only had they shared a passion he’d never felt before or since, they’d shared lots of laughter as well. He’d missed having that in his life.

  All too soon, Johnny pulled into the elementary school parking lot. There were already a number of cars and trucks parked there because of families coming to the yearly show, and mothers and fathers coming to see their children perform.

  Johnny, Benjamin and Marissa all got out of Johnny’s truck. Before they started walking toward the school’s front door, Benjamin stopped his parents. “I sort of lied before,” he said in a small voice.

  Marissa bent down to eye level with her son. “Lied about what, Benjy?”

  “I am kinda nervous,” he confessed

  Johnny squatted down so he too, was at eye level with his son. “You’ll do fine,” he said, his heart softening as Benjamin leaned against him with the trusting innocence of childhood.

  “Your mom and I are going to sit as close to the front as we can. If you get too nervous, you just look at us and know how proud we are of you. In fact, why don’t we make up a secret signal. If you get nervous, you look at me and I’ll pull on my ear...like this.” Johnny pulled his lobe in an exaggerated gesture.

  Benjamin giggled. “I feel better,” he said.

  Both Johnny and Marissa straightened. “Good, then we’d better get inside,” Marissa said, her gaze lingering for a long moment on Johnny.

  The look she gave him was sweet and soft, and tension instantly built inside him. He wanted to yell at her to stop it, warn her that it was dangerous to look at him as if she cared about him, as if she wanted him.

  She had cared about him long ago, had wanted him physically, but her feelings for him had been shallow, not strong enough to stand up to the tribulations life had thrown at him.

  He knew now that he’d been her walk on the wild side, her taste of forbidden fruit. The mayor’s daughter and the town’s poor, bad boy...the relationship had been destined to fail from the very beginning. And he truly believed had it not been for Benjamin, she would have written him out of her life long ago. But, even knowing all this didn’t stop him from wanting her.

  As they approached the schoolhouse door, Johnny shoved these thoughts aside. Anxiety took the place of anger as he anticipated walking into an auditorium of his fellow townsmen.

  Mustang wasn’t just a town, it was a close-knit community that functioned much like a dysfunctional family. Privacy was difficult to attain and most secrets were known to all. Ho
wever, Johnny knew that Marissa’s secret of Benjamin’s biological father had remained undisclosed until tonight. With Johnny at her side watching Benjamin’s performance, the secret would be no more. He only hoped that neither Benjamin nor Marissa paid in any negative way because of his relationship to them.

  Entering the doors of the school, Johnny was instantly hit with the scent of childhood, of chalk and papers, of floor wax and crayons. “Smells the same as it did twenty years ago,” he said.

  Marissa smiled. “It’s one of the universal scents that everyone recognizes.”

  Johnny’s tension grew as they approached the double doors that led into the auditorium. The sounds of the crowd within drifted out. Johnny had kept a low profile since getting out of prison. Most of his trips into town had been directly to Marissa’s shop or to the grocery store. This would be the first time he’d be seeing so many of the townspeople together in one place...and he wondered how his presence would be met.

  Just before they reached the doors to the auditorium, Benjamin grabbed Johnny’s hand. “I’m glad you came, Dad,” he said. And in that impulsive, innocent statement, Johnny’s nerves subsided and he found the courage to face whatever might lie ahead.

  As the three of them entered the back of the auditorium, the people talking nearest them stopped. Like a wave effect, the quiet grew until there was a complete and utter silence. It lasted only a moment, then the chatter of people resumed, making Johnny wonder if he’d only imagined the silence.

  One look at Marissa and he knew he hadn’t imagined anything. Twin spots of redness rode her cheeks and her back was stiffened as if in defense.

  “I’ve got to go backstage,” Benjamin said and with a nod from his mother, he raced ahead of them down the wide aisle toward the stage.

  “I feel like I’m facing a firing squad,” Johnny said softly as he and Marissa started up the aisle. With each step forward, Johnny could hear the whispers that followed their progress.

  He focused on nobody, instead eyeing the empty seats on the first row in front of the stage. He breathed a sigh of relief as he and Marissa sat down, the only two people on the first row.