Page 6 of Lucky Cowboy

He sighed. Audibly. “Quit your harping, you mother hen.”

“Give me a break. I’m only checking on you because I care about you. But you know that, you just have to be griping.” She and her dad had an understanding, though it had taken a little while to get there. Val said what was on her mind and he barked back if he felt the need. Nobody’s feelings were ever hurt, it was just how they communicated now.

“What about you?” he asked, his voice raspier than it used to be. She didn’t know if that had resulted from his general age or due to all his various infirmities. “How are you doing out there? No falls or anything, right?”

“No falls,” she reported, honestly. “You know how careful I am.”

Val was careful. Not only did she ride Maybelline every day that she could, practicing her moves, she also had an intense physical workout that she devoted herself to no matter what. She needed to be able to depend on her body doing what was necessary. Letting herself get out of shape would only lead to bad performances,Montana, which would increase her chances of injury.

She loved her career, enjoyed it tremendously. Her dad knew that. What he didn’t know was all the craziness that had ensued because of Biggs. He didn’t know about Biggs ripping her off. He didn’t know that they’d become involved romantically. And he sure didn’t know about her most recent encounter with him in Rocky Ridge, Montana of all places.

It’d been so random, accosting her there. The town was not only on the sleepy side, it’d hadn’t even been one she’d traveled to during those years when Biggs had been her manager. He’d made the decision to not go there or to many of the other more confined venues, and thinking him more experienced than her, she let him. Talk about a mistake. But then, nearly everything involving him had been a mistake.

One horrible and almost endless series of them.

But she purposely shoved all that out of her mind. Both Scottsdale and Phoenix were bigger arenas with enormous crowds. Nowadays, tons of people would record her on their phones, but since these rodeos were in more populated areas, there was a chance that some local news station or another might pop in and put her on the evening news. She needed to make sure that any footage they had of her remained top notch.

Once, when she’d first competed in the sport, she’d been there as a veteran rider had chosen to perform despite not feeling well. Her illness had ended up with her giving a lackluster show, and they’d roasted her for it as if she’d committed some terrible assault on their senses.

Crowds might love you when you were doing well, but some—particularly those who might not know you and already have an affinity towards you—could turn on a performer. Val hoped that would never happen if she ever had an off night, but down here states away from Montana, she could never be certain. So, she went out of her way every single time to do her best.

She’d literally cancel rather than face the booing and ridicule that other rider had been expected to cope with.

Then, there was the other result of messing up. Tumbling from her horse. It didn’t occur on the regular, but she’d seen a handful of falls over her time on the circuit. Once, a rider twisted her ankle when she’d landed wrong. The girl had been young and had been so high on adrenaline she hadn’t even felt the damage until after her performance.

Another time she’d witnessed a woman get tossed over her mare’s head when the animal had gotten spooked from an unanticipated sonic boom from jets overhead. The rider had been paralyzed until a risky surgery had put her spinal cord right again. It could’ve turned out to have a far more permanent result, however.

Every time Val ventured out on Maybelline, she stayed aware of those risks. Trick riding wasn’t for the faint of heart or the casual hobbyist. Going out there required an all-or-nothing approach.

Yet even if Val hadn’t been so gung-ho about her sport, she would’ve performed, anyway. Right now, her business was in debt up to its eyeballs due to her father’s many medical expenses and Biggs’ treachery. She had to try to make up for the shortfall through her rodeo pay.

Regardless, she wouldn’t remain gone for long from Montana. For every faraway trip like this one, Mitzi, as her assistant would schedule her next one much closer to home. She couldn’t afford to be too distant from Billings.

When she was away,assistant, she didn’t only miss her dad, though he was the main reason she returned to often. She missed her home, especially those miniscule touches her late mother had left behind.

Because her mama had died shortly after Val’s birth, she had no memory of her, but her father certainly did. He spoke about her with love in his eyes to this day. She thought he must still grieve for her in his own way.

He’d never dated or tried to remarry despite having lost his wife over three decades ago. The one time she’d witnessed tears streaming down his cheeks had been when he’d been staring at those periwinkles and the other flowers in her mother’s garden.

Maybe I should plant something new to go with them, Val thought to herself, as she tucked her legs under her sheet that night. It was so much hotter down here than at home, and even with the air conditioner on, she felt hot. And parched. She’d drank more water in the past couple of days than she had in months.

Tugging her mind back to the subject at hand, she mulled over whether her dad felt lonely. Surely he did. It was one thing while he’d been with her out here on the road, but now that he had to stay sequestered at home without Val, well… that worried her almost as much as his heart issues.

Maybe she could till up the soil around that one side of the house where there was no garden space and make a new row. Then, Val could plant tulips or roses or something else colorful.

Maybe if she put in plants that would bloom at different times than the ones already there, it’d remind him of her rather than her mother. If Val staggered them just right, there could be brightness and cheerfulness visible for far longer.

It was the least she could do for the single parent who’d loved her all her life.

Once her Arizona rodeos had been completed, she, Mitzi, and Maybelline headed right back home. After a good night’s rest in the comfort of her own bed, she woke with ideas about the plans she’d made while away.

Coffee in hand, she skipped outside to the correct portion of the yard, visualizing what she might be able to turn that empty patch of land into when she spotted her dad inside the barn. Needing to make certain he didn’t overexert himself, she hurried toward him.

“You’re up bright and early,” she told him, forcing a smile at the memory of how hard he’d hugged her upon her return the evening prior.

“Years of ranch life will do that to you.”

True. Sauntering into Maybelline’s stall, she retrieved her favorite grooming brush and began to drag it down the flank of her precious mare. Her dad watched her, a soft look playing over his features, when her phone rang. The number of the Sheriff’s Department of Rocky Ridge appeared.

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