19
Maren
The bleachers rattled beneath Maren as heeled boots struck the metal surface, rodeo-goers rushing to find their seats before the first notes of the national anthem soared into the wide blue California sky. Standing, she placed her hand over her heart and every cowboy in sight removed his hat, an unspoken respect paid with the simple gesture.
It had been years since Maren attended a rodeo. As a teenager, she’d loved them. The roar of the crowd. The frenetic energy. Even the smell of the livestock and the earthy arena dirt.
She used to pay close attention to the rides and the scores, but today, all her eyes could do was follow the movements of one particular cowboy. When the opening lines of The Star Spangled Banner rang out, she had to intentionally focus on the billowing flag and not on Grady, who sat mounted on his palomino paint, Sunny, at the edge of the arena, readied for their responsibilities.
“Well, that was beautiful,” Becca, Rigg’s wife, said at Maren’s side. The two women lowered to take their seats on the crowded bleachers. “That young girl has the voice of an angel.”
“She sure does,” Maren agreed.
“So Riggs tells me you and Cutter go way back.” Becca was a few years younger than Maren with a distinct debutante air about her. Her hair was a cascade of blonde ringlets that were so long Maren wondered how she kept from accidentally sitting on them. She had perfectly manicured nails and a flawless face of makeup. She looked like she could be crowned the Rodeo Queen. She was beautiful, strikingly so. “How long have you two been together?”
“Oh, we’re not together.” Maren shook her head. “Grady and I aren’t together.”
Becca’s heart-shaped mouth thinned into a line. “You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not.” Maren pulled her legs closer as a couple with a young daughter took their seats in the row below them. “We’re just friends.”
“Sure you are.” Becca flashed a dubious, I’m-not-buying-that-at-all grin. “That’s what I kept telling myself about me and Riggs, too, you know. That we were just friends. Now I’ve got his ring on my finger and a baby on the way.” She patted her flat stomach gently.
“Oh.” Maren stiffened. “You’re pregnant?”
“We haven’t really told anyone yet. Only my mama and Riggs’ parents. I’m just shy of three months—that terrible stage where I throw up every morning and none of my clothes fit. Everyone says this is the worst part and I’m praying to the dear Lord above it’s true. Don’t think I could handle six more months of this particular brand of torture.”
“Well, congratulations, Becca. That’s really fantastic news.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. We weren’t even trying, but we weren’t exactly not trying, if you know what I mean,” Becca said with a wink of her thick, false lashes.
“I get it.” Maren laughed a little. She paused before saying, “Do you mind me asking how you knew Riggs was the one for you? I mean, since it sounds like you both knew each other for a while. When did things change from being just friends to something more?”
“I suppose it came down to us both wanting the same things out of life. We wanted to live out in the country, raise a few rugrats on the farm. Work the ranch with Riggs picking up a handful of rodeos a year. It’s the life I grew up with and it’s the one I wanted to continue living. I think I saw Riggs differently when I realized he was the one who could provide that for me. Plus, he’s one handsome devil, if you haven’t noticed. That doesn’t hurt. And he’s a real sweetheart to boot. The whole package.”
Maren knew Becca’s family was heavily involved in rodeo life and had been for some time. Her grandpa once raised champion, National Finals rodeo quality bulls. But in recent years, their family found success with an excellent string of bucking horses. You could almost say rodeo was in their blood.
“So, if it’s not Cutter you’ve got your eyes on, is there someone else?”
Maren shrugged. “I’ve dated, but have yet to find Mr. Right.”
“Or maybe you’ve already found him, you just haven’t realized it yet.” Not-so-slyly, Becca tipped her chin toward the arena below where the bareback competition was about to commence.
Grady and Riggs stayed back on their mounts while a young rider did his best to ride out the eight-second clock. Unfortunately, he was no match for the cantankerous animal beneath him, and after two wild bucks, he was tossed from the beast like a rock from a slingshot. Within seconds, Riggs was in the middle of the action, scooping up the rider to clear him from the horse’s path. Grady sidled up next to the still bucking horse and with expert finesse, pulled free the bucking strap. Like the animal had been given a tranquilizer, he trotted cooperatively toward the exit gate.
“They are so good together,” Becca noted appreciatively. “I’m always relieved when I hear Riggs will be teamed up with Cutter for an event. I don’t have to worry when they are a pair. Cutter’s one of the best pickup men I’ve ever seen.”
There was no denying the truth in that. Maren knew from watching her own father in the arena that it took skill, confidence, and God-given talent to be a great pickup man. Grady had all of that and more.
And Maren clearly wasn’t the only one to take notice.
As the next rider readied in the chute, Grady and Sunny moseyed up the east side rails of the arena. Women young and old waved over the piped panel fencing, some even reaching out to try to touch Grady’s arm like he was a rock star on stage at a sold-out concert. When a particularly assertive brunette stretched over the railing and grabbed Grady’s hat from his head, Maren stiffened, something a lot like jealousy bubbling up within her.
Though she couldn’t decipher the words, she could see a friendly negotiation for his commandeered hat taking place, but it all got a little too friendly when the young woman yanked on the neckline of her tank to expose a glimpse of her ample cleavage. Her friend next to her shoved a black marker Grady’s way. The thought of Grady autographing any part of that woman’s body had Maren’s face flaming with anger.
Shaking his head, Grady leaned forward and whispered into the woman’s ear. Whatever the offer, it seemed to appease her, because she muttered something back and let go of her shirt collar, then placed his white Stetson back onto his crop of golden hair where it rightfully belonged. Grady adjusted it with one hand and dipped the brim as a thank-you. Then, before Grady could trot away, she planted a bright pink kiss on his cheek.
Maren felt sick to her stomach.
“Don’t let it get to you.” Becca patted Maren’s knee with affection. “That buckle bunny will forget all about your cowboy once the bull riders come out. Girls like her don’t settle for our type of men, the kind of man who doesn’t need recognition, glory, or praise out there on that dirt. Girls like that go for the wild ones.”
Maren almost told Becca that Grady wasn’t her cowboy, but she knew the angry scowl that coiled her mouth betrayed her. She was jealous, there was no disguising that. And after their kiss the night before, Grady certainly did feel like her cowboy.