Tomas: Cowboy Homecoming Page 10

  Colt strolled over. “Lighten up. You scared him to death.”

  “I wanted to drive my fist through his face.”

  Colt shook his head.

  “I’m sorry. I lost it for a moment.” He bent to finish strapping on his chaps, trying to blend reality with the horror of war.

  “Tuf…”

  “Don’t worry,” he told his brother. “I’m not a violent person. The man’s disrespect just got to me.”

  “If you want to talk, I’m here.”

  “I know, and thanks, but I’m fine.” He exhaled a harsh breath and tried to push the incident out of his mind. “Let’s rodeo.”

  Jesse Hobbs was up first on Powder Puff. He made the ride and scored a 79. Trey Watson was next with a 79.5 ride. Bossy Lady charged into the chute, and Colt climbed the steel rail to help Cory Kinney prepare to ride. The horse bucked wild, but Cory managed to stay on and scored an 80.

  Beau took over the job of helping the cowboys. The next rider bit the dust, too, on a horse named Dixie Chick. Then it was Tuf’s turn. Teddy Bear was in the chute. Tuf donned his protective vest and climbed the steel rail. At the top, he blocked the crowd, the sounds and the scents from his mind. The horse fidgeted, not liking the chute.

  “Stay focused,” Beau advised.

  Tuf slid onto the horse and checked his rigging. It was cinched tight around the horse’s withers. Tuf slipped his gloved hand into the handle and gripped with all his strength. He got his legs into position, leaned slightly back and raised his left hand. Ready, he nodded and the gate flew open. When the horse’s front hooves hit the ground, Tuf marked the horse at the shoulders with his spurs. Before he could get a rhythm marking, the horse gave a wild buck, and he found himself lying flat on his face in the dirt.

  “Damn!” He got to his feet, dusted off his new chaps and picked up his hat.

  The rest of the rodeo he helped with the Hart stock, getting them in chutes and out. Colt made his ride, as did Beau. They’d probably place in the money if they made their ride tomorrow night.

  They were dog-tired by the time they made it to the trailer for the night.

  “Who gets the bed?” Beau asked, removing his dirty shirt.

  “Since it’s my trailer, I get half the bed.” Colt made his opinion known.

  “That’s cool,” Beau said. “I’ll sleep on the kitchen-table converter bed. I’ll be talking to Sierra before I go to sleep and that way I won’t disturb anyone.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Tuf looked at Colt and Beau. “Expecting anyone?” They shook their heads. Tuf turned the latch to find two girls standing there, one blonde and the other brunette, in tight jeans and even tighter blouses. They wore cuffs like he’d seen Cheyenne make on their wrists.

  “Is Colt Hart here?” the blonde asked.

  “Uh…” He glanced over his shoulder to see Colt waving his arms above his head and mouthing no. “Uh…he’s unavailable.”

  “That’s a pity. We’re going to a party and Colt loves parties.”

  “He’s married now.”

  The girl cocked an eyebrow. “Married? When did that happen?”

  Tuf didn’t know the exact date, and before he could reply, Colt walked up. “Hi, Cindy, Mallory.”

  “Colt,” the girls screeched in unison.

  Colt shoved his hands into his jeans. “Sorry, I’m a family man now. Got kids and everything.”

  “Oh, we hadn’t heard.” The blonde made a face. “Such a shame. We could have had a great time.”

  “Hope you enjoy the rodeo.” Colt backed into the trailer like an inchworm.

  Cindy batted her eyes and looked Tuf up and down. “How about you, cowboy? Would you like to go to a killer party?”

  “Uh…no, but thanks.”

  “Why doesn’t anyone want to have fun anymore?” Cindy mumbled.

  “Uh…night.” Tuf closed the door and looked at his brother. “I’m proud of you.”

  Colt shrugged. “Figured it was time to stop hiding and be an adult.”

  “You know, Colt,” Beau said from his perch at the kitchen table, “you should have some flyers printed up announcing your marriage so all the girls on the rodeo circuit will know, because clearly some haven’t heard the news.”

  Colt raised his hand but restrained himself from shooting Beau the finger. Instead he headed for the bedroom. “Think I’ll call my wife and tell her what a catch she’s landed.”

  Tuf sank into the booth at the table. “Yeah, that’s going to go over big.” Colt laughed as he closed the small door. Tuf glanced at Beau. “Want to flip a coin to see who gets the shower first?”

  “Nah. You go first. I’m waiting for a call from Sierra.”

  After his shower, Tuf pulled on jeans, a T-shirt and a jacket. Colt and Beau were each on the phone with their wives. He slipped out the door and sat on the trailer step. The night was chilly but not uncomfortable. He wrinkled his nose. Since the stock pens were a short distance away, the scent of alfalfa and manure wafted on the breeze.

  Sticking his hand into the pocket of his jacket, he found his cell and clicked Cheyenne in his address book. She answered immediately.

  “Hi, Tuf. How did you do?”

  He grimaced. “I got bucked off.”

  “You’ll do better. I know you will.”

  Her warm voice was soothing. “I hope it’s not too late to call.”

  “No. The girls are out for the night and I’m making jewelry.”

  He settled against the trailer door. “Did they ride today?”

  She laughed softly and it eased every ache in him. “I could hardly keep them focused on their lessons today. They wanted to ride instead. Guess why it was so important?”

  “Why?”

  “So they can show Tuf how good they can ride all by themselves.”

  Tuf grinned up at the twinkling stars.

  “I made a short video with my cell. I’ll send it to you.”

  “Okay.” He clicked off and waited for the beep. Then he opened the video. Astride the horses, dressed in matching pink and purple outfits, including hats and boots, Sadie and Sammie waved excitedly at him. He could hear their voices.

  “Hi, Tuf,” Sadie said. “We can ride real good.”

  “I was ’posed to say that,” Sammie complained.

  “No, I was,” Sadie corrected her.

  “I was,” Sammie insisted.

  “Girls.” Cheyenne’s voice rang out. “Do you have anything to say to Tuf? Sammie first.”

  “She’s a big baby,” Sadie grumbled.

  “Am not.”

  “Sammie, say something quick.” Mother director was on the job.

  “I love you, Tuf.”

  “I love you, too, Tuf.” Sadie wasn’t going to be outdone.

  “I love you, too,” he murmured as the screen went black. Holding the phone in his hand, he wondered how that could have happened so quickly. They’d stolen his heart, much as their mother had years ago. His cell buzzed and he clicked on.

  “I forgot to tell you they weren’t on their best behavior.”

  “I thought they were cute.”

  “You would.”

  There was a long pause, and he could feel her doubts seeping through.

  “Tuf…we agreed to be friends, but things are changing too fast. My girls are becoming attached to you and…”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want them to get hurt.”

  His hand gripped the phone. “You think I’d hurt them?”

  “Not intentionally, but you’re a former marine and you’ve been through a great deal. I couldn’t help Ryan and…”

  “Cheyenne…” The only thing he could do was be honest. “Yes, I came back scarred, but I had a counselor at the hospital in Maryland and I see one in Billings. I’ve done everything I can to heal.”

  “Oh, Tuf.”

  He held the phone a little closer to his ear. “If I thought for one minute I could harm you or the girls, I’d walk away now.”

&n
bsp; “I…I don’t want you to walk away.”

  “Good.” He relaxed. “Then let’s go on a date, the four of us.”

  She laughed, a tingly sound that seemed to light up the night.

  “And don’t you dare say no.”

  “Yes, Tuf Hart, I will go out with you.”

  He never realized until that moment that he’d been waiting ten years for her to say that.

  Chapter Ten

  The darkness of the trailer threw him as he slipped back in. A tiny light burned in the kitchen area. Beau slept on the makeshift table bed and Colt was out in the bedroom. Had he and Cheyenne been talking that long? Yanking off his jacket and jeans, he crawled over Colt and snuggled under the blanket. Colt didn’t even stir. He always slept like a log.

  As sleep claimed him, he heard her words, “Yes, Tuf Hart, I will go out with you.” That would sustain him for a while.

  Some time toward dawn when his defenses were down and he was weak, bad memories snuck through like thieves stealing his well-earned peace of mind. He was back on that hill in Afghanistan where Michael had been shot, bullets blasting all around him. Frank Bigby screamed and went down. Tuf and another marine dragged Frank behind a rock, out of the line of fire.

  “I’m hit, Tomas. It hurts.”

  “I know. Take a deep breath. Stay here. We’ll pick you up on the way down.”

  “Tomas…”

  “You’re fine. It’s just a shoulder wound.”

  Mortar fire exploded above them. “Stay down. Stay down!” he shouted to his men. When there was a lull, he jumped to his feet. “Let’s go. Let’s go!” They charged forward, avoided enemy fire when they could. The Afghan soldier went down.

  He had to stay focused. He’d check him once the battle was over. They were almost at the top. A few more feet and they could take out the enemy. “No, no, no!” He had to look. “No!”

  “Tuf! Tuf! Tuf!”

  Someone held him down. Had the enemy captured him? He had to fight. He had to get away.

  “Tuf, damn it! Wake up!”

  He opened his eyes and saw Colt sitting on top of him. Beau held his arms. “Oh, no!” They released him and he sat on the side of the bed, his head in his hands. Colt and Beau sat beside him.

  “Do you want to talk?” Colt asked.

  “No.”

  “You were screaming and thrashing about. I think you were back in Afghanistan.”

  Tuf jumped to his feet and grabbed his clothes. “I have to get out of here.”

  “Tuf.”

  Within a minute he was dressed and hit the door.

  “Tuf!”

  He ran until his lungs could no longer hold air and then he sank to the cold ground. The stock pens were in front of him. Midnight stared at him and suddenly the nightmare eased. He was home, away from the horror.

  Brushing the nightmare from his mind, he got to his feet and walked over to Midnight. “Good morning, boy.”

  The horse pawed the ground and Tuf relaxed, but he still didn’t understand why he was having the debilitating dream again. He hadn’t had one in months. Something must have triggered it. A gush of air left his throat in realization—the man who wouldn’t pause for the national anthem. That had to be it.

  Slowly, he made his way back to the trailer, feeling trapped in a war he couldn’t escape. Last night he’d been so happy, but now he couldn’t see any kind of relationship with Cheyenne. She’d had one marine who’d suffered from PTSD. He couldn’t do that to her again.

  When he entered the trailer, Colt and Beau were at the table eating breakfast tacos and drinking coffee. No one said anything and he sat down next to Beau. Colt slid a taco and a cup of coffee toward him. He wrapped his hands around the warm cup and took a swallow. Then he undid the tin foil around the egg-and-sausage taco and ate it. Still no one spoke.

  Tuf set his cup on the table. “Somebody say something. Please.”

  Colt shrugged. “We don’t know what to say.”

  “Just don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “With pity.”

  Colt sighed. “Tuf, I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, but last night Beau and I got an up-close-and-personal view of something horrific. We’re not looking at you with pity. We’re looking at you in awe.”

  “Yeah,” Beau agreed. “Do you want to talk?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve talked to a counselor about my experiences until I’m blue in the face. I guess some of those memories are always going to be with me.” He wadded the tin foil into a ball. “Could we talk about something else now?”

  “Sure.” Colt settled back. “Last night after I finished talking with Leah, I took a shower and noticed you weren’t in the trailer. I looked outside and saw you on the step talking on your cell. Who were you talking to?”

  “Cheyenne,” he admitted.

  “Ah.” Colt nodded. “Leah mentioned you came to the rescue of the infamous runaway Sadie.”

  “Yeah. Cheyenne and I are friends. We’re just talking.”

  Beau punched his shoulder. “Well, that’s a lot more than you did in high school.”

  “You had a big crush on her back then,” Colt added.

  He frowned. “Did everybody in Roundup know that?”

  “Everybody but Cheyenne.” Colt pushed away from the table. “We have to get to work. We have a rodeo tonight.”

  “Let’s go,” Tuf said and paused briefly as a tiny remnant of the dream lingered. He pushed it away and hoped it was gone for a long, long time.

  The rest of the day went smoothly. They had two jobs: getting the animals into the chute to ride and supporting each other and the cowboys. Then they had to make sure the animals made it back to the stock pen without injury. After a ride, an animal was usually hyper, hard to settle down. But there were several handlers to help. They trusted no one with Midnight, though. Ace would be proud of the way Colt took care of the horse that the future of Thunder Ranch rode on.

  The spotlights came on and people filed into their seats, chattering. Noise erupted around the arena. “Should’ve Been a Cowboy” by Toby Keith blared over the speakers. In the cowboy-ready area, it was a whole different scene. The chutes banged while cowboys worked on their gear, psyching themselves up for a good ride. Tuf was no different. As he tightened the straps on his spurs, the announcer asked for everyone to stand for the national anthem. Standing, he once again placed his hand over his heart and remembered his buddies and other soldiers who had died in the line of duty for their country.

  When the music ended, he turned to see the man with the clipboard. Tuf nodded and squatted to finish adjusting his spurs.

  “Mr. Hart, I…um…”

  Tuf rose to his feet and stared at the man, realizing for the first time that he was probably about twenty years old.

  “I…I’m sorry about last night. I have a cousin in the navy and I would never disrespect our military. Working the rodeo is a dream job for me. I got so busy with details, I wasn’t paying attention. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  The kid glanced at the clipboard. “You’re second up tonight on True Grit. You got about five minutes.”

  “Thank you.” Tuf held out his hand and the kid shook it vigorously.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said and walked off.

  Colt hurried over. “Did you get into it again with him?”

  “No. He apologized.”

  “That’s good.” Colt looked him up and down. “You ready?”

  “Yep.” They strolled to the chutes and watched as Jesse Hobbs slid onto Naughty Girl. The horse burst from the chute and bucked one way, and Jesse went in the opposite direction, landing on his stomach.

  True Grit waited in the next chute. Tuf anchored his hat and climbed the chute. The horse was restless, moving about. Carefully, he slid on, balancing himself on the cold steel of the chute. True Grit jerked his head, not liking the baggage. Tuf tested his rigging and stuc
k his right hand into the handle.

  “Stay focused,” Colt suggested. “This horse is not known for consistency. Be prepared for anything.”

  “Got it.” He placed his legs into position and raised his left arm. When he nodded, the side of the chute opened, and True Grit leaped out and bucked into the arena. Tuf held his feet in position over the break of the horse’s shoulders until the horse’s front feet hit the ground. He marked the horse, and while maintaining control, he moved his boots in a toes-turned-out, rhythmic motion in tune with the horse’s bucking motion.

  Three seconds. Four seconds. His muscles stretched, and he felt like his arm was being pulled out of its socket, but he kept marking the horse with his spurs. Eight seconds. The buzzer sounded, and he leaped from the bucking bronc and landed on his feet. Yes! He’d made the ride. Walking toward the chute, he watched for his score on the board. Seventy-eight. Not bad.

  He swung over the arena fence and made his way to the cowboy-ready area. Removing his chaps and spurs, he placed them in his bag. Beau would take his rigging off True Grit. He hurried to help Colt, and he wanted to be there when Midnight made his appearance. Cory Kinney had drawn Midnight and he was scheduled to go last.

  Tuf remembered Cory. He’d made it to the national finals last year and had placed sixth overall. He was an up-and-coming bareback rider, and Tuf wondered how he’d do on Midnight.

  “Great ride,” Colt said as Tuf climbed the chute. Trey Watson was about to ride. “Take over. I have to get Midnight ready.”

  They watched as Trey scored a seventy-nine, putting him ahead of Tuf. That was okay because Tuf knew he wasn’t going to win tonight. His no-ride last night had put him out of the money.

  Midnight shot up the alley leading to a chute. Tuf quickly opened the gate and slammed it shut behind the black horse. Colt was already on the chute getting Midnight geared up to ride. Tuf didn’t get too close because his presence always seemed to rile the horse, as if he knew they were adversaries and would one day challenge each other.

  Once Midnight was reasonably calm, Colt motioned to Cory, who climbed the chute. Colt attached the flank strap lined with fleece, and Midnight jerked his head up. Carefully, Cory climbed on. Midnight’s body trembled with restless energy. Several minutes passed as Cory adjusted his rigging. Once he gave the signal, the chute opened, and Midnight reared up on his hind legs and leaped forward, kicking out with his powerful back legs. One strong kick and Cory flipped over backward, landing near the chute. Midnight ran wild in the arena and the crowd roared.