The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two) (23 page)

Could they shift from where they were right now, or would she always see him as a suicidal, paranoid wreck? Lord, he hoped he could turn things around. He wanted her to see him as whole, capable of setting his own course. More than anything, he wanted her to see him as a man she’d be proud to be with.

Sure enough, he was headed for a train wreck, because he knew what Paige wanted, and it wasn’t the quiet life in Perfect, Indiana, with a head case like him. A fool could hope, though, and he truly was that fool.

The rear parking lot came into view. Large livestock trailers, semis, RVs, pickups, and portable metal railings forming chutes and corrals took up the entire acreage. He searched the rigs for the familiar signage. “They’re here.” He gestured toward the dark-green semi cab with
MALLOY RODEO RANCH
painted on the door and a gold shamrock underneath. Hitched behind the cab, their camper trailer and livestock trailer made the whole getup look like a train. He saw no sign of movement near the rig. “They must be inside.”

His heart pounded out a mixture of anticipation and nervousness as they approached the double doors, which were thrown wide open. Rodeo riders stood around the entrance, talking shit,
catching up with friends who, like them, followed the circuit cross-country in the hopes of big money.

It all came back to him in a rush. The pre-event jitters, preparing his gear, the camaraderie, and the eight-second adrenaline high of the ride. Man against beast. He missed it, even though he’d never considered ranching or competing in the rodeo as a viable lifestyle. He’d always wanted to do something artistic, creative. Drawing a saddle bronc held far more appeal than suffering multiple bone fractures being thrown from one.

A police officer stood casually but watchfully by the large double doors. “Hey,” Ryan greeted the man with the badge, showing him their tickets. “I was wondering if I could get word back to Shawn Malloy to let him know his nephew Ryan is here to see him.”

“Runt!” A voice thundered from the dimness inside. “Is that you, you son of a bitch?”

His cousin emerged and shoved his shoulder. Ryan grinned so hard it hurt. “Hey, Austin. It’s been a while.”

“That it has. How’ve you been?” Austin clasped Ryan’s hand for a few seconds. His gaze settled on Paige.

“This is Paige Langford. Paige, this is my cousin, Austin Malloy. He’s the ugly one of the batch.”

“Evening, Paige.” His cousin touched the brim of his cowboy hat and dipped his head. “What’s a good-lookin’ woman like you doing with a scrawny runt like him?”

Paige blew out an exasperated breath and looked between him and his cousin. “Is the cockiness a cowboy thing or a Malloy thing?”

Ryan found himself laughing again. Austin joined in, and something akin to happiness bubbled up inside Ryan. “It’s an Austin thing. I’m never cocky.”

Paige reached out her hand to shake Austin’s. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Austin held on to her for too long, shooting Ryan a challenging look. “Come on back, you two. My dad is going to shit his pants when he sees you, Ryan.”

“Aren’t you a married man?” Ryan extricated Paige’s hand from his cousin’s. Austin hadn’t changed much. He was five years older and about four inches taller than Ryan, with a workingman’s body, callused hands, and muscled shoulders and chest. He had a few more laugh lines around his standard-issue Malloy baby blues. Lines also bracketed his mouth, his smile standard-issue Malloy as well—lopsided as all get-out.

“Sure am. We have two boys of our own now.” Austin winked at Paige. “Just ’cause a man’s on a diet doesn’t mean he can’t read the menu.”

“That is so old.” Paige laughed, her eyes twinkling. “Not to mention lame. Now I can’t wait to meet this uncle of yours.” She ran her hand up and down Ryan’s biceps.

Was it a possessive gesture—or protective? Either way, it sent his blood racing along the horndog trail. “Lead the way, Austin.” Ryan put his arm around Paige’s waist, and they entered the bowels of the Ford Center. Ryan kept an eye on Paige as they walked by the makeshift corrals penning in the broncos, riding horses, steers, and calves for the evening’s events. She took in everything, wrinkling her nose at the animal smells.

He couldn’t help noticing the cowboys and ranchers doing double takes as they passed, their appreciative stares resting on the spectacular woman walking beside him. Pride filled him, and he stood a little straighter. “You’re making quite an impression, darlin’,” he whispered into her ear.

“Hmmm?” Her brow rose in question.

“Don’t you know how gorgeous you are?” He squeezed her close. “You’re turning every head in the place. Even the cowgirls are looking our way. They’re jealous.”

“Ha. It’s a Malloy thing.” She chuckled in that throaty way of hers. “Just as I thought, you’re all full of—”

“Ryan Patrick Malloy!” his uncle boomed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Paige had to let go of Ryan’s hand or have her shoulder dislocated when his uncle pulled him in for a bear hug. Seeing him laugh as he returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, anyone would think this was nothing more than a happy family reunion. She knew better. As finely attuned as she was to Ryan, she also caught the frequent swallows, the brightness in his eyes, and the crushing grip he kept on her hand. He hadn’t been kidding—all of this must be terribly difficult for him.

“Uncle Shawn, this is Paige Langford.” Ryan averted his face for a second and passed a hand over his eyes. “Paige, darlin’, this is my uncle Shawn. He’s my dad’s twin.”

“Glad to meet you, Paige.” Shawn turned all of his attention to her. “Are you the reason my nephew’s in Indiana?” He took her hand and held it in both of his. At least six feet tall, with graying blond hair and bright blue eyes, Shawn had the same crooked smile as Ryan and Austin. A slight paunch hung over his belt, and he smelled like Old Spice and livestock. Oddly enough, not an unpleasant combination.

“Umm, no. He works for my brother.”

“Yeah?” He let her go, his attention returning to Ryan. “Last I heard, you were living in Dallas and still working the factory job.”

“I moved here a couple of months ago.” Ryan took off his hat and studied the makeshift pen holding his uncle’s bulls. “I’m working for Langford & Lovejoy Heritage Furniture. It’s owned by my former lieutenant.” He glanced at his uncle, and an unmistakable flash of pride lit his eyes. “I’m designing a new product line for the company.”

“It’s incredible,” Paige chimed in. “He’s creating a number of pieces based on American quilt patterns. Ryan and I have also been working on an advertising campaign set to launch this coming September.”

“You don’t say.” His uncle’s glance bounced between them with a speculative glint.

“Before I ran into the runt, I was on my way to snag a couple of pizzas from across the street,” Austin said. “Now that y’all are here, stick around and share a meal with me and my dad.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows in question, and she nodded.

“That would be great.” Ryan grinned. “It’ll give us time to catch up.”

“Come on over here. I have a table and folding chairs set up by the bulls.” Shawn nodded toward the corral containing about a half dozen huge, intimidating bulls with very sharp, long horns. Following her gaze, he flashed a grin. “They won’t cause you any harm as long as you don’t try to ride them,” he said with a wink.

“My uncle’s bulls are really rank.” Ryan reached for her hand again.

“Yeah, that’s what you told me earlier, but I don’t know what it means.”

“It’s her first rodeo,” Ryan explained to his uncle. “Rank means they consistently score high points for the ride they give.”

“My bulls have put more than a few cowboys in the hospital,” Shawn boasted. “That red one there”—he pointed to one of
the beasts—“is called Sidewinder, and the tan one against the far side is Diablo. That’s Spanish for ‘the devil.’” He beamed. “Bull riders love to pull our bulls in the draw. They’re the rankest anywhere.”

“Putting cowboys in the hospital is a good thing?” she asked. Both men nodded and smirked. “Great.” She pulled out one of the folding chairs next to a card table and took a seat. A cribbage board, two mugs containing the dregs of old coffee, and a deck of cards sat in the middle of the plastic cover. Shawn took the seat across from her, and Ryan sat to her left.

“Do your folks know you’re living in Indiana now?” Shawn leaned back, stretched out his long legs, and crossed them at the ankles, fixing Ryan with a sharp look. “Seems to me they’d have sent us word if they knew.”

“Uh, no. I plan to call them real soon.”

Pulling his phone from the leather holster attached to his belt, Shawn eyed Ryan. “Why don’t we give them a ring right now?”

“Maybe later.” Ryan tensed beside her, his jaw muscle working away.

“You’re killing your parents. You know that, right?” Shawn crossed his arms over his chest. “What did they ever do to piss you off so bad you felt you had to cut your own family out of your life the way you have?”

Ryan shot up from his chair, grabbed her hand, and pulled her up beside him. “It was great seeing you, Uncle Shawn. Austin too. We gotta go.”

Crap!
“Whoa. Everybody take a breath.” Paige tugged back before Ryan could bolt. “Mr. Malloy, I know this is none of my business, but Ryan has been through a lot. Cut him some slack. He’ll call his family when he’s ready, and no sooner.”

Shawn’s eyes widened, and his brow rose. He opened his mouth to reply, but she wasn’t done. “We just got here, Ryan. Please sit back down. Your uncle means well. It’s clear you come from a loving family, and there’s no doubt in my mind your silence has put them all through hell.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Shawn threw his head back and laughed. “I like this girl of yours, son. You’d better hold on to her, or I might have to introduce her to our youngest.” The Malloy lopsided grin made him look years younger. “Kit’s a lot better looking than my nephew here.” He jerked his thumb toward Ryan. “And taller. You’d like him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She held her breath, letting it out slowly when Ryan finally sat back down. “I’m going to get a soda. Do either of you want anything?”

“I’d love something to drink.” Ryan reached for his wallet, pulled out a ten, and handed it to her. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. I can find my way.” She slid the bill into her front pocket and glanced between them. “You two catch up.”

“Wait a second.” Shawn moved to a footlocker sitting against a stack of hay bales behind them. He lifted the lid and pulled out a lanyard attached to a plastic name-tag holder identical to the ones he and Austin wore. The Malloy logo was printed at the top, with their participation and permit numbers in black beneath. “My other son was going to come, but his wife is going to have a baby any day, and he decided to stay close to home. This’ll get you past security, and if you get lost, any cowboy with a number pinned to his back can help you find your way.”

“Thanks.” She leaned over and kissed Ryan on the cheek, and left the two to work out their issues. Once she was through the door leading to the front part of the Ford Center, she found
herself swallowed up by the crowd of people moving slowly past numerous booths carrying a myriad of cowboy gear. Ryan was right. Everyone wore cowboy boots, western belt buckles, and hats. She didn’t fit in.

A map of the stadium took up a large space of concrete wall between restrooms. She located the closest food vendor, took note of her surroundings, and headed down the hall, stopping now and then to try on a cowboy hat or to look at hand-tooled leather purses. Maybe next year…

Right. By next year, if everything went according to plan, she’d be back in Pennsylvania or another city, working her way up some corporate ladder. Did the rodeo come to Philadelphia? More important, would Ryan still be a part of her life? A dull ache carved out a place in her chest. It would be asking too much to expect him to carry on a long-distance relationship. He was finally starting therapy and trying to come out of his self-imposed isolation. It wouldn’t be fair to make any demands on him just because she had ambitions.

By the time Paige returned, the three Malloys were sitting at the table together, laughing and talking. Three pizza boxes rested in the middle. Paper plates and napkins had been set at each place. Austin saw her first and stood up to pull out a chair for her.

“Did you walk all the way to Illinois for those soft drinks?” Shawn teased. “We were about to send a posse out after you, girl.”

“I have a cell phone. Ryan could’ve texted me when the pizza arrived.” Paige shrugged, placed Ryan’s soda in front of him, and took her place at the table. “I did some shopping.” She glanced at Ryan. “I found the hat I want.”

“That’s great,” Ryan said, opening the pizza boxes. The cheesy, garlicky aroma wafted up. “Better take all you want of this pizza, Paige.”

“That’s right.” Austin nodded. “Ladies first, and don’t be shy.”

“We mean it.” Shawn cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t be shy.”

She helped herself to a piece of the combination pizza, placing it on her plate.

“Is that all you’re planning on eating?” Austin’s brow rose.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll have another slice in a while.” The three Malloys shook their heads and chuckled.