Betting the Rainbow (Harmony) (5 page)

Chapter 8

BUFFALO’S BAR

H
ALFWAY THROUGH THE SECOND SET AT
B
UFFALO’S
B
AR,
Dusti finally got a few minutes to talk to shy Kieran alone.

They walked out on the long patio Harley had added to the front of his establishment. The bar owner claimed it classed up the place, but no one believed that staring at the muddy parking lot added anything to the ambience. Harley had even offered half-price hot wings in the fresh air, but apparently everyone wanted bar air.

Kieran navigated around scattered lawn furniture to the farthest empty table and pulled her chair out for her.

“Thanks,” Dusti said, falling into the plastic with more swiftness than grace. “You’re a good dancer. Where’d you learn to two-step in Scotland?”

He took the seat across from her. “I haven’t lived in Scotland since I left for college. For the past few years I’ve been based in New York and, believe it or not, they do have country-western bars in New York City.”

“I’m not surprised. They have everything there. I’d love to go someday just to see so many people crowded together.”

“It is fun. New York reminds me of London.”

She’d noticed his accent came and went. Sometimes she swore she heard the Highlander in his voice, and then he’d speed up and the New Yorker would come out.

Dusti couldn’t help wondering what accent he used when he made love. Maybe he used different languages depending on what he was doing. Maybe he just stayed silent.

She mentally slammed a club against her head. That was her problem: From the first time she talked to a man she started visualizing him in bed. A few times the scene was so horrible she stayed on the straight and narrow, but more often in her late teens and early twenties, she “went to sin city,” like her mother used to say. Luckily, her mother only knew of a few of her trips.

When Abby left for college, the family didn’t have enough money for Dusti to go away to school, so she went wild for a few years. Then her father died of a sudden heart attack. Dusti took on the extra load. Within a year, her mother got sick and Dusti took on all the load. Partying on Saturday nights now and then was her only release. She thought of them as midnight breaks; after all, college kids got spring break. When she went crazy, Dusti didn’t much care who she was with.

“You’re a good dancer too, lass.” Kieran broke into her thoughts. “I like a girl who’s not afraid to lead now and then.”

Dusti realized she hadn’t been following the conversation. “Thanks,” she managed to say as she leaned closer. “I didn’t just want to dance, Kieran. I wanted to talk to you.”

The clipped New Yorker replaced the Highlander. “Shoot.”

“I heard about a poker game and I plan to enter.”

“So do I,” he said, making everything plain from the first.

“Only I have one problem and I thought you might help. Would you consider teaching me to play? I know the rules. I know how it works, but I’d like to know how to win.”

His big body shrugged in the shadow. “Even if I teach you, I’ll still win, so wouldn’t it be a waste of time?”

“I just need to make it to the money at the end. You can take home the top pot next time.”

“Why should I teach you to play?” His grin gave no hint of whether he was kidding. “I don’t see any advantage in it for me other than having one more person to beat.”

“I can pay you in eggs and pecans. A year’s supply.”

“I’d have trouble getting eggs home and I don’t eat nuts. In fact, just sitting next to someone eating them on the plane makes me swell up and have trouble breathing.”

Dusti crossed her arms over her chest. “Teach me to play and you can name your prize. Anything.”

She studied her hands. Abby was right, this was a crazy gamble and without the help of someone like Kieran, she didn’t have a chance. It was also the only hope of a way out that she’d thought of in three years.

He stared at her. “You, Dusti.” His voice was low in the midnight breeze. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since I saw you that summer when you were about twelve and I was maybe fourteen. You were wilder, running the land, swimming the lake, than Austin and I could ever be. That black braid of yours dancing down your back when you ran and your laughter stuck in my brain long after I left that summer.”

There went her mind again, back to tangled sheets. She got out the mental club and slammed the idea out of her brain. “What exactly are you asking?” Treat it like any other negotiation.

He was silent for a few minutes, then bumped his knee against her leg. “Come on, what have you got to lose? We could swim in the moonlight again, only this time we wouldn’t be kids.”

She forced herself not to jump. She’d hear him out. If the price was too high, she’d walk away, but she wanted this dream for Abby. Her sister was the good one, the Florence Nightingale. She was a year away from her goal of being a nurse. If Dusti couldn’t follow her dream, at least Abby would get a chance to follow hers.

Dusti tried not to think about what she’d pay for lessons. Kieran was good looking, but who knew what he was into? After all, he’d been to New York City and London.

“If I teach you to play—”

“And I make it into the money in the finals,” she added.

“And you make it into the money,” he repeated, “then you pay the price. You go out with me on a real date, anywhere I say, anytime I say. I’m based in New York, but I travel several times a year. I can’t remember the last time I spent an evening with a beautiful woman.”

“Would dancing be involved?” She thought about asking if sex was expected, but she didn’t want to give him any ideas.

“Dancing, dinner, drinks. I’ll even toss in a drive in the moonlight. We dress up and go out on the town.”

She grinned. If he picked Harmony, that would be dinner at the diner, then walking across to Buffalo’s. Or they could drive to Amarillo and have a few dozen great places to eat, then take in a movie. The moonlight drive would take two hours each way. “All right. When do we start the lessons?”

“I’ll drop by for breakfast tomorrow morning. If I’m going to teach you, we only have a very short window for you to learn, and I promised my grandmother I’d build her more bookshelves before I leave. She naps most of the morning these days. Says some parts of her body don’t wake up till after lunch and the soaps are over.”

“All right. I still have a farm to run, so no more than three hours of lessons a day.”

He offered his hand. “Fair enough.”

When she took his hand, she added one point. “You know, Kieran, you could have just asked me out. I would have gone.”

He didn’t turn her hand loose. “I did, Dusti, the last three times I came home. You were always too busy.”

She thought about what he said. She barely remembered talking to him during the times he’d visited. Once her mother had been ill, and she and Abby were giving up every other night of sleep to sit with her. The next Christmas she’d seen him, even talked to him a minute at the post office, but her mother had just died. Then, maybe she’d turned him down last fall when all hands were needed to harvest the pecans. During those weeks she and Abby didn’t have time to put on makeup, much less go out.

The realization that it had been two years since she’d had a real date or kissed a man shocked her. Wild Dusti Delaney had been living the life of a nun.

When Abby came home from school they’d been so busy. They’d talked about going out, even sized up every eligible man in the county, but there had been no time. At this rate they’d become the two old sisters living in the retirement home wondering where their lives went.

She stood. “Kieran, would you mind if we sealed this bargain with a kiss? I’m not much on handshakes.”

He looked surprised, so she guessed she might as well go for total shock.

Dusti crawled onto his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his.

For a college graduate, he didn’t seem too bright. From the way he kissed, sleeping with the man would be a real snooze. She’d get more action kissing the Blarney Stone.

Raising her head, she stared at him.

He didn’t move. His arms were still at his sides, making her feel like she might as well have been a pigeon perched on his knee.

She climbed off the man, wondering if he was shy or gay or both. Maybe he was broke. That might explain why he didn’t date.

“I wasn’t ready,” he said calmly.

“That’s all right.” She must have been real dumb to think he was making her a hot proposition. Obviously the man only wanted a date. Now, after she’d just scared him to death, he probably didn’t even want that. “I guess the deal is off?”

He stood, towering over her. “The deal’s still on. I’ll teach you to play and we’ll have the perfect evening after you win money.” When she didn’t comment, he added, “And, Dusti, I’ll let you know when I’m ready for that kiss.”

Chapter 9

IN FLIGHT

R
EAGAN
T
RUMAN BUCKLED INTO HER SEAT ON A
S
OUTHWEST
flight heading out of dallas toward las vegas. Since the night she’d talked to Dusti Delaney at Buffalo’s, she’d known what she had to do. If the Delaneys could fight for their dream chasing a wild poker game, she could fight for hers.

As the flight attendant blared safety information, Reagan smiled. Her uncle Jeremiah used to tell her that if a dream wasn’t worth fighting for, it wasn’t worth having. He always said something like, “Whether you make it or not, kid, how are you going to feel on your deathbed if you didn’t try? Seems to me, even if you don’t make it, you’ll die knowing you gave it your best shot.”

She’d loved the old man from the moment he took her in and claimed her as kin. She’d gone from being a runaway foster kid to the niece of the last of the Truman family.

Before he died, he’d given her everything she’d ever dreamed of: a home, roots a hundred years deep, and his last name. Only now, after she turned his farm into one of the most successful businesses around, she wanted one dream more. Noah McAllen. Maybe she’d always wanted him, even that first day they’d met in high school. He’d grown up in Harmony and knew everyone. She knew no one. But he’d walked up to her with his friendly smile and told her they were going to be friends. She’d done her best to push him away, but he kept coming back. She couldn’t help but love him.

Only Noah McAllen loved the rodeo. At first it was the thrill, the excitement of the crowd, the need to break his father’s records, but now it was the money. With all the endorsements and personal appearances he might make a million this year. How could he turn that down?

Noah loved her too. She knew he did. When he won big, she was the first call he made. When he was hurt, he’d always have her come. Every time he came home he told her he loved her, and she swore she could see the truth of it in his eyes.

He was wild and reckless and she was grounded and shy, but somehow they matched. When they were together, the whole world seemed in balance.

As the plane rose into the clouds, Reagan counted the weeks since he’d been home. The small ranch his father had given him when he turned eighteen only had herds of tumbleweeds rolling across it now, and the house he’d told her would be their start was crumbling. Just like their plans to be together.

Noah always said they were young. Twenty-three is too soon to marry. They had plenty of time. The rest of their lives.

Only he hadn’t called in over a month. Something was wrong. As much as Reagan hated traveling and crowds, she had to go to Noah. Deep down she knew he was slipping away, out of her life.

She might not have heard from him, but she knew where he’d be. This week every cowboy riding the circuit would be in Vegas at the rodeo. Only two nights were left. She’d find him tonight and watch him ride tomorrow before she went back to her quiet farm. Two days of crowds would be worth it if she could be with Noah.

Closing her eyes, she flipped through memories. The night he’d first kissed her. The days she’d spent watching over him after a bull had stomped on his chest. The first time they’d made love and she’d made him do it again just to make sure it had really been so good. Dozens of long hello kisses and tearful good-bye hugs at airports. It seemed like her whole life in Harmony had been measured in the heartbeats of Noah.

Dreams mixed with truth as the plane rocked her to sleep. He was waiting there, always in her dreams. Holding her. “I’ll be your family,” he’d whispered after her uncle died. “I’ll always be your family, Rea, and you’ll always be my anchor.”

The sun was low over Vegas when the plane taxied in as she awoke. If she hurried, she might be able to make it to the rodeo grounds before he rode. He’d look up and see her and she’d see that wide lovable smile. Then she’d know everything was all right.

The rent-a-car place was crowded. The parking lot at the arena was full. By the time she walked to the entrance, her curly red hair was wet with sweat from the 105-degree heat that had baked into the asphalt that day. She’d worn her boots and jeans. Not the right attire for Las Vegas in summer.

By the time she spent half her cash on a ticket and walked to where the contestants had parked their trailers and pickups, Reagan wished she’d just found a hotel and called Noah. She lived in a world where personal space was measured in feet and everyone around here seemed to think an inch was plenty.

Finally she reached the guard to the contestants’ gate. He was dressed in a red western shirt with an official circle logo on his pocket. Over forty and bored, she thought, with ex–bull rider written all over him.

“I’m with Noah McAllen,” she yelled over the voices behind her. “I’m his friend.”

“Sure you are, miss.” The guard’s voice had a chain smoker’s rattle about it. “You don’t even look like you’re out of high school.”

Reagan fought down an oath. She’d always looked younger than she was. At five feet three with no makeup, she probably did look seventeen. With her luck, she’d probably be carded until she was forty. “Can you get a message to Noah? He’ll want to know I’m here.”

“For twenty bucks I’ll try.”

Reagan backed into a corner and scribbled a note to Noah on the sleeve that had held her plane ticket. He hadn’t answered the dozen messages she’d left. Probably lost his phone again, she reasoned as she folded a twenty around the envelope.

The guard took it without a word, just winked at her as if they now shared a secret, and shoved the note, along with the twenty, in his back pocket.

Reagan waited, moving back in the crowd far enough to breathe, but so she could still see the passageway. If Noah got the note, he might have time to come find her before he rode.

No one paid any attention to her. In the ocean of people wanting through the gate, only a trickle made it. Several other women around her were dressed in fancy western wear. They were hanging around laughing and waving as a few of the cowboys rode past. Some were made up to look younger; a few were trying to look older. All fought to look available. All the cowboys competing were professionals. The money was good and the rides were wild, in and out of the arena.

Reagan smiled. When she found Noah, they’d laugh about how some of these outfits would scare cows. She’d tell him some of the things the girls said about the riders.

An hour passed and the rodeo started, but she didn’t move. Anyone riding tonight would have to pass by here. Noah might not be close enough to hear her yell, but if he glanced her way she knew he’d see her. He used to laugh that he could pick her out of any crowd. All he had to do was look for her hair. He swore no woman ever born had hair the color of sunset across open plains.

Guards changed at the gate. She watched the winker head back to where horse trailers were lined up. He reached in his back pocket and pulled out the airline envelope she’d given him with her note written on it. Finally her message would be delivered. Her long day, her long trip, would be over.

The guard shoved the twenty in his front pocket and tossed the envelope in a trash can as he passed.

Reagan fought back tears, thinking that coming here had been the dumbest idea she’d ever had. Noah knew she never liked to watch him ride, not since the early days when she’d felt like a part of her died each time she saw him fighting to get out from under a thousand pounds of angry bull.

Even if she went to the stands, he’d never see her. Not among thousands. Not as high up as her seat was. People began to move away toward the show, but Reagan stood with a dozen others waiting. She had no idea where he was staying. He might be sleeping in his newest trailer. He’d said something about wanting one, but she hadn’t paid enough attention to remember if he’d bought it or just added it to a wish list. He’d told her it had living quarters bigger than some hotels he’d stayed in during his early days of rodeo.

Her only chance was to stay right where she was and hope that eventually he’d pass by. Or, she realized, be sensible and go back to Harmony. Eventually he’d come back, he always did. The first few days back he played the star, but finally the rodeo champion would melt away and her Noah was there again, saying he didn’t want to leave her, telling her what their life would someday be like, loving her.

One of the glitter cowgirls noticed Reagan. She shook her overstyled, oversprayed, overcolored curls. “You all right, honey? You look like you might faint. This your first rodeo?”

“I’m fine. I’m just waiting for someone.”

“One of the riders?”

Reagan nodded. She really didn’t want to talk to anyone, but she couldn’t be rude. “Noah McAllen. I’ve been watching him ride since we were in high school.”

The Dolly Parton lookalike smiled. “I hate to tell you, honey, but McAllen won’t be interested in seeing you. He’s all business. Never picks a girl up. He stays alone and, win or lose, drinks alone.”

“You know him?”

“I’ve seen him. Heard about him mostly from a few of the other riders. They say he’s a loner who does his job and steps away from the lights as soon as he’s finished. He’s not in it for the fun. I know most of the girls who follow the circuit, and not one of them has gone more than a few rounds on the dance floor with him.”

Reagan was glad to hear that he didn’t sleep around, but if he was burned out, why hadn’t he come home? Why stay? He’d made enough money. Every ride was a roll of the dice that he might get hurt again, and one time he might not walk out of the hospital. He might never walk again.

“How do I get to him, or at least get a message? I really do know him.”

The blonde shrugged. “You probably do. No woman would wear that outfit and come here hoping to get picked up.” She lowered her voice as if passing a secret. “My Johnny says he sometimes goes downtown to a little bar near the Golden Nugget. It’s so dark in there no one would recognize their own mother. You might try there. I think it’s called the Lucky Sevens.”

“Thanks.” Reagan watched several riders pass by. All were tall and lean and wore their hats low.

For a minute none looked familiar but, in a blink, one turned toward the gate and stared directly at her. Tired brown eyes took in all the crowd, the bright lights making the night bright as high noon.

“Noah!” she yelled, shoving her way to the front of the crowd. “Noah.”

A few other cowboys glanced in her direction, but Noah turned away. He hadn’t seen her.

She’d become invisible in his world.