Bull By The Horns [Wayback Texas] Read online

  Look at that. She'd seen him and turned as red as her T-shirt. He grinned and straightened to his full height, tucking his hands in his pockets. She hurried down the steps and across the yard to the parking lot.

  He reached into the truck, his movements languid, and plucked the little straw hat off the dashboard.

  "What are you doing here?” she asked, very schoolteacher-ish, her posture stiff.

  He held the hat out to her, his hand spanning the small crown. “Aaron left this.” He turned the hat over to show her the boy's name on the sweatband.

  Her shoulders relaxed and her eyes went soft. “Oh, thank goodness! He was ready to cry thinking he'd lost this.” She took the hat and pressed it over her breasts like a shield. “And you deliver lost and found items in your free time?"

  "Just when I know where to find the owner.” He glanced toward the school. “Or maybe not."

  "He's going to appreciate this so much. I'll run out to his home to give it to him."

  Surprise tugged his lips into a smile. “You deliver lost and found items in your free time?” he echoed.

  She lowered her lashes. “He was really upset. You'll be his hero for bringing this back."

  Taylor stepped back and yanked open the stiff driver's side door. “Then let me go with you to deliver it."

  Her hesitation was appealing as hell, indecision clouding her eyes, the desire to agree, her battle against the desire. She looked over her shoulder at three other teachers standing on the school steps, watching her with open curiosity, and her shoulders stiffened again.

  She turned back to him. “That would make Aaron very happy."

  Taylor was fairly certain that wasn't her whole reason for agreeing. She started around the hood toward the passenger side door.

  "That door doesn't open from the outside."

  Her brows winged up in surprise, but she came back around and ducked under his arm to climb in. He slid in beside her. Nervously she fumbled with the buckle of the seat belt. He leaned over to take the buckle from her and clicked it home. His knuckles rested on her hip for a moment, just long enough for her to draw in a breath in awareness. He lifted his gaze to hers, saw the longing, the regret. Why was she so determined to keep him at a distance?

  Why was he so determined to close it?

  She swallowed and he eased back to start the truck.

  "Tell me where to go."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  The twenty minute drive over caliche roads passed in rapid-fire conversation that made Taylor feel like he'd been hit by a dust devil. Only a few questions got her talking, but mostly about her class. She talked a mile a minute about “her kids,” and grew more animated, but the way she jittered in her seat and messed with her hair told him she hadn't really relaxed. Talking about her class was just another shield.

  Still, he liked listening to her lightning-fast voice, the snap of her Texas accent. And while she was talking, he didn't have to talk about himself, or come up with a lie about his past.

  Following her directions, he pulled in front of a low ranch house that had seen better days. From the activity around the place—animals, bright plastic kid toys—he figured the neglect was based more on low priority than low funds. Behind the wooden fence, two kids smaller than Aaron raced around, and a pretty young woman stood watching the truck, her hands on her hips.

  Taylor shoved at his door and it creaked open. Yeah, he could afford a better truck, but right now he needed to stay below the radar. Driving up to a small town rodeo in a brand new Dually would get him attention he didn't want, not yet.

  He stepped out, aware of the young mother's eyes on him, and reached a hand in to Lavender. She paused, then took it, her hand small and soft, and she scooted across the vinyl seat, holding onto the hat.

  He didn't let go of her hand when her feet hit the ground, instead rubbing his thumb over it, letting himself wonder what it would feel like on his body. She tugged it free and walked around the open door to the gate.

  "Hey, Monica,” Lavender said, her voice bright.

  Monica smiled in return and opened the gate in welcome. “What are you doing out here, Lavender?"

  "Taylor here found Aaron's hat.” Lavender held the hat out and inclined her head in introduction.

  Behind Monica, the screen door slammed and Aaron darted out, charging straight for his hat. He snatched it from Lavender with a whoop, and turned to Taylor, who'd come up beside her and leaned his forearms on the fence. Little eyes widened.

  "Hey there, Mr. Craig. You want to see my pony?"

  Taylor straightened. “Yeah, sure, if that's okay with your mom."

  Monica lifted a shoulder, her cheeks dimpling, eyelashes lowering. “Sure. Aaron told me all about your horse, Mr. Craig. He's bound and determined to teach his pony some tricks now. Don't be too much of a pest, Aaron."

  Lavender opened her mouth, then closed it again as Aaron grasped Taylor's hand and tugged him toward the barn.

  Once the males had walked out of hearing range, Monica turned to Lavender with one eyebrow raised. Lavender resisted the urge to speak, knowing any word would pop Monica's bubble of curiosity and all her questions would spill out.

  As it was, she lasted maybe a minute, her gaze darting from Lavender to Taylor's retreating form.

  "Aaron told me you met a cowboy, but he didn't tell me you met a cowboy."

  Lavender fought the blush she felt creeping up her throat. Of course it looked odd, her coming out here with Taylor.

  "I told him how happy Aaron would be to get his hat back, and he offered to drive."

  Monica considered her another moment. “Okay. You could have told him how to get here."

  "Because it's so easy for a stranger to find this place?"

  Monica swung her youngest daughter up on her hip and expertly dodged a sticky nuzzle. “It's not that hard."

  "It wouldn't be if your stubborn father-in-law would let them put up street signs."

  Monica tugged a wipe out of her back pocket and swiped it across her daughter's face without looking before setting the child down again. “Why are you so defensive? Honey, it's about damn time you got laid."

  Lavender didn't even try to control the rush of blood this time. Even if it looked like she was interested in Taylor, who was to say he would be interested in her? Or that she'd open herself up to getting hurt like that?

  Monica backed off then. “How's Gertrude?"

  Great. As if she wasn't churned up enough, Monica had to mention her grandmother, who was no doubt wondering where the hell she was.

  "She's good. She has her days, you know."

  "I bet you'll be glad for summer, so you won't have to worry about her while you're at work."

  No, she'd just have to be at her beck and call twenty-four hours a day. Lavender closed her eyes a moment and pushed back the resentment. Giving into that emotion didn't do either her or her grandmother any good.

  "It will be good not to worry,” Lavender admitted.

  "Have you heard from your mom?"

  Not in years. “Not in awhile."

  "I wonder where she's landed now. I always liked her. She was so colorful, you know? She had so many neat experiences, she was always so brave, never afraid to try new things, go new places. I was always so jealous of you."

  Lavender wondered how jealous she was now that Lavender was living the life of a spinster and Monica had three little kids and a husband who adored her. Sure, her mother was ready to try new things, anything that wouldn't keep her in one place too long. She hadn't been able to wait to shake the dirt of this town off her sandals, even if it meant leaving her fifteen-year-old daughter to take care of her mother after Gertrude's stroke. Every now and then her mother would come back into town just long enough to stir up that resentment again.

  "Maybe we'd better go see what Aaron has got Taylor doing,” Lavender suggested.

  The two women strolled toward the barn. Monica never had been in a hur
ry to do anything. They stepped inside the barn to see Aaron holding his pony's lead in the center of the barn, Taylor crouching at the pony's flank, the animal's left hoof in the palm of his hand, his other hand pointing at Aaron. He let the hoof fall and Aaron said, “One!” Taylor picked up the hoof again, repeated the action, and Aaron crowed, “Two!"

  They reached five before they noticed the women standing behind them. Taylor straightened, wiping his hands down his thighs.

  "I hope that's all right, ma'am,” he said to Monica. “She's a good animal, she won't hurt him."

  "He's been around horses his whole life.” Monica looked past him to her son, who crouched and tried to lift the pony's foot. “It won't be the last time he's stepped on."

  "Remember how I showed you,” Taylor called over his shoulder. “Pinch her fetlock. Not too hard, just to show her who's boss."

  Aaron apparently pinched, because the pony lifted her foot docilely.

  Lavender watched Taylor with an ache in her chest. Those danged weaknesses revisited her when he met her gaze and winked. She had to get away from him, now, or nothing but pain would be in store for her.

  "We should get back,” she said.

  He considered her a moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay.” He touched his hat in Monica's direction. “Ma'am. I hope y'all come out to the rodeo this weekend and watch me ride."

  Monica dimpled again. “What event are you in, Taylor?"

  "Steer wrestling."

  "Good luck with it. We'll try to make it out. With three kids, it's not so easy.” She looked past him to Aaron. “He probably won't let us miss it, though."

  "If you make it out, come say hi.” He turned back to Aaron. “See you around, little man. You keep working, all right?"

  Aaron was so focused on the pony, he only nodded.

  "Aaron, your manners,” Monica chided.

  "Thank you, Mr. Craig,” he said without turning around.

  Taylor grinned at Lavender. “Let's head on back, then. Nice to meet you, Monica."

  He rested his fingers at the small of Lavender's back, sending a shiver through her as he guided her across the yard to the truck. At the same time she wanted to lean back into his touch, wanted to see what he'd do. He held the door open and she slid in, self-conscious of his attention on her.

  A few moments passed while she sought the balance she'd had on the way out here. Surely just that little touch, that little show of possession hadn't thrown her off so far. “You were really good with him."

  "I like kids. Wait, that didn't come out right.” He flashed her a grin.

  She smiled. “I know what you meant. But it has me wondering what you did before you decided on amateur rodeo."

  His grin dimmed. “Lots of different things."

  "Nothing you could settle on.” Like that was a surprise. She knew his type way too well.

  "Nothing that made me happy."

  "And rodeo does?"

  "So far."

  "That's good. It's important to be happy.” But like her mother, he'd probably always be chasing it. She settled back in her seat and wondered why the idea made her so sad.

  When he pulled up beside her Toyota, he repeated his dinner invitation.

  "I can't,” she said, too aware that he essentially had her trapped in the truck, and that she didn't really know him, and that the parking lot was mostly empty, usual for the end of the school year when teachers started yearning for summer.

  "Someone waiting at home?” he asked.

  She wondered why he hadn't considered that before. No ring, maybe, but now she latched onto the excuse. “Yes. I'm sorry. I have to get home."

  Something tightened in his face, something more than disappointment that she refused. More like disappointment in her. Her stomach twisted. She'd experienced that often enough.

  He shoved open the door and climbed out. This time he didn't reach in to help her out. And when she said goodbye, she didn't meet his eyes, only murmured a thank you before darting into the school to straighten her room for the next day. Regret was heavy in her heart that she'd let him believe she was taken. It had seemed the right thing to do, and going to dinner with him would only prolong her hopes, wouldn't it?

  "Hey, Lavender, who was that you were talking to out there?” Jerri, one of the two third-grade teachers asked. She and the other third-grade teacher, Melissa, and the second-grade teacher, Laurie, stood in the hall by Laurie's room.

  Had they been waiting for her? Surely they didn't stay an hour after school every day, unless it was to visit. Lavender hated that they intimidated her. They were young and beautiful and free, everything she wasn't.

  "Just a guy I met today on the field trip."

  "From the rodeo?"

  "Mm, yeah."

  "What was he doing here?"

  "Aaron left his cowboy hat behind and Mr. Craig brought it over to return it."

  "Mr. Craig, hm? Well wasn't that sweet?” Laurie asked. “And you took it out to Aaron together? That's quite a ride."

  "Aaron was upset about the hat, and Mr. Craig had made such an impression on him, I thought Aaron would like to thank him in person."

  "Ah. So you took a forty-five-minute round trip."

  Put like that, maybe it was a little foolish.

  "Was the field trip fun?” Jerri asked.

  Lavender rolled her eyes, grateful for the change in subject. “Are they ever?"

  "If you meet guys like that, they are,” Laurie sighed.

  Lord, how much of Taylor had they seen?

  "I need to get ready for tomorrow.” Lavender headed down the hall toward her room.

  "We're going out to the Blue Bug tonight,” Laurie said to her retreating back. “It's kind of a tradition during rodeo season. Do you want to come?"

  Lavender turned slowly to give Jerri and Melissa enough time to give Laurie dirty looks or jabs or whatever. Lavender had stopped accepting social invitations long ago and so people had stopped inviting her. Didn't Laurie know that? In the time it took her to turn, she played all the reasons her grandmother would give for her not to go: it was a Thursday, she was too tired from her field trip, teachers going to a honky-tonk was trashy, her grandmother needed her.

  But when she opened her mouth to make a more polite excuse, she pictured Taylor. She'd have a better chance of seeing him again there than by sitting home watching TV. Running into him in a dance hall wasn't the same as making plans to eat dinner with him, was it? And that little touch on the small of her back had awakened longings she'd forgotten. Yes, he would leave. Yes, it would hurt if she let it.

  So instead of the, “No, thanks,” she said, “What time?"

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Three

  Lavender hadn't been to the Blue Bug in maybe ten years, but it hadn't changed much in that time. Still, she was shaking as she searched the crowd for Laurie and her friends, also scanning for Taylor. Wow, there were a lot of cowboy hats and faded jeans. The bar was hidden behind rows of them, and harried waitresses rushed around with trays full of long necks. Every instinct told her to pivot and go home to her grandmother, curl up and watch TV while she recovered from the field trip.

  Then she looked down the hall into the pool room and saw Taylor. He was propped against a pool cue, studying the pool table while another cowboy leaned in for a shot. He wasn't wearing his hat and his jaw-length brown hair gleamed in the dim light. He swigged a beer then stretched out for his own shot, all delicious lean grace.

  While the balls still rolled on the table, he looked up and saw her. Surprise brightened those pretty eyes, then he winked.

  The ball went into the pocket and Taylor straightened with a victorious grin.

  Lavender heard her name. She turned to see Laurie, Melissa and Jerri waving from a table in the middle of the main room. She edged through the crowd toward them, heart pounding. Anxiety at stepping out of her comfort zone had her nervous, not the way Taylor Craig had looked at her.

  "Hey.” She drape
d her purse over the back of the empty chair and sat, checking out the bottles on the table—three empties and three half empty. “Been here long?"

  "About half an hour. We thought you wouldn't come,” Jerri said.

  Lavender tried not to read anything into that. “No, I wanted to. It's nice to get out."

  The three women considered her a moment before Melissa leaned back to signal a waitress for another round.

  "Your cowboy's here,” Jerri said with a wave of her hand. “I saw him dancing earlier. He's got moves."

  "He's so cute,” Melissa sighed. “Too young for me, though."

  Which meant too young for her by far. Lavender stiffened defensively. “He's not my cowboy.” At least they couldn't see her blush in the dim light.

  The band started playing a popular line dance song and the tables emptied. Her three companions popped out of their seats to join the throng on the floor. Laurie turned back to her.

  "Do you know this one?"

  "Um, it's been awhile. I'll watch, see if I remember."

  "You're not going to remember by watching. Come on.” Laurie took her hand and pulled.

  But once on the dance floor, Lavender lost her as more people crowded the floor, and she tried to follow her neighbor's feet.

  Strong hands closed on her hips, turning her with the crowd, and Taylor moved up beside her before releasing her. “Watch me,” he advised.

  She did, studying his feet in the battered brown boots before she had to turn her back to him and follow someone else's steps, all the while self-conscious of Taylor behind her seeing her stumble, or maybe watching her big butt. Great. Her grandmother had told her the jeans were too tight.

  The moves had her turning again, with Taylor to her left this time. She was finally getting it, and then the moves had him turning his back to her. She stumbled when her gaze wandered to his butt and she jerked her attention away before he turned and saw.

  He grinned anyway, as if he'd known. She stuttered for a minute, then fell into step with him. The synchronicity felt good, made her feel connected to him and the dancers around, and she let the music wash through her as she turned her back to him. When they were facing the same direction again, she admired his grace once more. He was light on his feet, and interpreted the rhythm more deeply than just following steps, his knees bending deeper, his hips swiveling. He even added a couple of skipping steps but kept with the beat. God, she wished she could dance like that.