“Not shame on you, though. Shame on him. Shame on her. On Heather. They disrespected your marriage. You didn’t do that.”
“The irony is that he went down a hero, and now my name is in the paper for disrespecting the name of my late husband by representing you.”
“Yeah, well, fuck the media. You’ve got a good reputation, so I’m all on board with keeping it intact, but you want to know what I would do if I were in your shoes?”
“What?”
“Go buck wild and give all of ’em something to really talk about.”
She snorted. “I want to actually keep my job for a while.”
“Where’d you go?” he asked softly, the smile fading from his eyes. “When he died, where did you go?”
“After the funeral, I sold it all. All our cows, our horses—”
“You sold your horse? That roan? What was his name?”
“Scout’s Honor. I called him Scout. I sold him to the Kaid Brother’s Ranch, and they have him working the cattle now. No barrel racing for him.”
“You loved that horse. I could tell.”
“How?” she asked curiously.
“You were always talking to him and singing to him. When you had him tied up to saddle him, you talked to him like he was your best friend. If you were in line to race, you were always hunched over him, hugging his neck, talking in his ear, and that critter sure loved you back. I’m a shifter. I know these things about animals. Why did you sell him?”
Cheyenne shrugged. “Partly for money. And partly to just move on from my old life. I had in my head I would never go near another rodeo again. I sold all of our livestock and packed up what was left, moved to Jackson Hole, Wyoming.”
“Why there?”
“It’s where my grandparents were from. My parents were both raised there. Two couples that had stayed together always, but I hadn’t figured out how to keep my husband, so I don’t know. I guess I hoped I would find some peace in Jackson Hole.”
“Did you?”
“For a while. I mourned real hard for the first year while I was working at this little coffee shop. The second year, my boss put the shop on the market, so I put in an offer and became my own boss. Hired new staff and renovated the place, got it making money. I still own it. Cheyenne’s Café. I got a girl I trust running it while I’m on the road.”
Two Shots was smiling. “I’m really damn proud of you.”
“For what?”
“For getting through. For getting to here. For taking your time to process what happened, but then getting right back up and standing on your own two legs. You’re one helluva woman, Cheyenne. Tarik didn’t appreciate you near enough. He wouldn’t have been able to look at anything but you if he did. His loss.”
“Well, he’s not really around to feel that loss anymore.”
Two Shots cast another quick glance down the empty hallway. “Don’t be too sure about that.”
“Whatever happened to your dad?” she asked.
“He ended up being nothing of importance.” But when he’d said it, Two Shots’ eyes had darkened. She was a blusher, sure, but his changing eye color did the same thing. They told of his change in moods. They ruined his poker face.
“I never told anyone about Heather. Not until tonight. Share the weight, big bad Two Shots Down, just like your momma said.”
He cocked his head and gave her this tiny, wicked grin. “I think you see more than most people. You pay attention.”
“Yep! One, two, three, go. Story time.”
He snorted and cracked his knuckles. “Uuuh, my mom left him and took me with her. I wanted to be with her, not him. I was angry with what he did to her. He stole her light for a long time. I watched it happen, and I think a part of me hated him for it. She got her light back in a couple years, met a nice man. A human man. His name is Brick, and he’s my stepdad. I was only twelve when they got married, and I was this angry little shit. Acting out. I didn’t know how to control my dominant bull, so my mom had to pull me from school to keep the little human kids safe. I didn’t have a lot of friends, and Brick was a cowboy. A roper. My real dad would come around every once in a while, but he would seem uncomfortable around me, and then he would leave as soon as he could. He always had an excuse. He had to get back to work, or he had a project he was right in the middle of. And every time he would leave, Brick would take me and my mom to a rodeo. He would let us travel with him. Always made it fun, like an adventure. Now as a man, I know he was trying to take my mind off of being angry with my real dad, but at the time, I was just allowed to be a kid, you know?”
“Brick sounds like a good man.”
“Oh, he’s the best. He came to every event I did that he could, but he’s slammed running this little ranch with my mom. They’re happy as little clams in Utah.”
“Is he the reason you turned into a bucking bull?”
He huffed a laugh and scratched his jaw with his thumbnail. “Actually, my real dad is kind of the reason for it, too. When the circuit first started, they did a call for bucking bulls, only none of the bull shifters were trained to buck. My dad signed up the first year, and sometimes I would watch his events on TV. I didn’t tell my mom I was watching them. I would record them on those old VHS tapes and then watch them late at night. Well, Brick caught me one night, and he started watching them right along with me. A year into my dad’s schedule, and he had built a chute for me. He got a couple boys from the neighborhood to volunteer to train on me.”
“He wanted you to take after your dad?” Cheyenne asked.
“No. He saw the anger in me. The fire when I watched those tapes. He wanted to give me the training to outshine my dad. My dad provided the chip on my shoulder, and Brick gave me the road to get there. My mom and him cheered me on the whole way. The meaner I got as a bull, the more understanding they were with me as a man. It’s what I wanted, so they supported it and never looked back. Got a second mortgage on their ranch to finance me traveling for events the first two years and, now, when I win money, I send them checks. I’m gonna pay them back every dime.”
“Holy moly, Two Shots,” she drawled out, utterly stunned. “You are so much different than anyone would ever guess.”
“Different how?”
“Different in a good way.”
There was the electricity again, sparking between them. Two Shots was the one to break the silence. “You should go before you fall in love with me.” His Cheshire cat grin just about stopped her heart.
“Me fall in love with you?” she asked, standing. “I’m the one with easy access holes and wing sauce stains on my pants. You’re the one in danger.”
She sauntered down the hallway, determined not to look back.
“Maybe I like danger,” he called after her.
Chapter Seven
She knocked again to no answer. He’d really left without saying goodbye.
Sure, she would see him in a week near his hometown of Billings, Montana for the next event, but disappointment swirled in her chest that he’d really checked out and gone without even a wave.
Ew. She was so needy now. She’d never been like this before with men. Cheyenne straightened her spine, gripped the handle of her suitcase, and dragged it toward the elevator. She should get going, too. She had a flight to catch.