But I’m equally pleased that the bull pushed through his massive overdose, regardless of who given it to him. Administered sometime after my little chat with him that night, I assume. Not only because he’s worth nearly a million dollars with his renewed bout of fame, both of us surviving a second impossible bout, but because I don’t want to see a creature as strong and determined as Wreck taken down by some asshole whose issue is with me, not the bull.
Plus, the event has raised his notoriety, making him a much-sought-out adversary, though I’m not entirely certain if Wreck is due for retirement now that he’s mine. I bought him off West the day after I came home and officially upped his already fat personal bank account balance by a happy high six figures.
Next year’s Invitational has already begun to take shape in my mind. Planning which riders to invite, how to best showcase the animals’ skills, is a familiar function, and even though I thought this year’s catastrophic event would be my last…I know now that it won’t be. My accident proved to be the linchpin I hoped in all of this. The boys stayed, and my sign-up sheet, when I logged back into my account, is fuller than ever. Next year’s season will be a bumper crop of new riders, should I want them. But my main job will be working out how to get Billy on an eight-second ride and training up my home talent in Jesse.
All of the above assuming that I haven’t made a Coyote Falls–sized mistake a second time around.
Lanie makes a face as she stares at the bull that nearly killed me twice.
Not that I blame her. Wreck nearly took everything from us. Not that it’s his fault, but still. I get that being near him is tough for her. We have a different sort of mutual respect based around a decade of history. Wrecking Ball looks up, glares at us, and returns to nonchalantly snuffling the ground.
“It’s fine if you don’t like him.”
“You should have called himWreckingBull. Have you finished what you’re doing?” she says tentatively, her thermos creaking in her whitening grip.
“Yup. West is setting it right now.” If I trust anyone without any doubt, it’s the woman standing beside me…and West.
The man has been by my side for nearly fifteen years, his blood invested in the dirt Coyote Falls was built upon. I tried to give it away to him, and the foreman refused to take it. West has earned the slice of land he’s going to end up with over years of service he never had to give. He’ll come around at some point. I’ll find a time to gift some part of this place to him one day. Waiting him out is a long game and I have more patience than anyone on this land.
No. West will never be my weak link. But he will find out who betrayed us in short order.
“We’ve got this covered.” I slide my arm around Lanie’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And then I have another plan.”
“What’s that?” I swear her Big Sky eyes glow as she tips her head back to gaze up at me. Lanie never flirted, exactly, when we first met, but damn if she’s not a coy little thing in my arms right now.
A smile quirks the corners of my lips as I open my mouth to answer her. A call across the yard stalls my reply.
“Rand,” West yells, jogging over, clutching a tiny bottle of tranquilizer. He waves it over his head. “I found this. I’ll call the police.”
Swearing softly, I study the incriminating evidence we’ve all been searching for since the day we realized Wreck had been doped before my ride. “Be careful not to mar any fingerprints. They’ll find out who did this. Pity, I would have been a hell of a lot more lenient with someone who told me the truth. We know Jed is the instigator.” Thanks to that slice of conversation West and I eavesdropped on that day, we knew about that. Two and two added up to Jed. “But whoever did this could be charged with attempted murder. That’s, what, ten years? More? Now, Jed goes free.”
“Fifteen,” West says grimly, though I detect an undercurrent of satisfaction in the hard set of his shoulders.
I nod, sobering. The broken trust in the yard hangs over us. Lanie nestles closer to my side. I tuck her into me, refusing to let her out of arm’s reach right now. She studies her thermos as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world, her brows drawing together.
What West says stretches the truth; regardless of what part he played, Jedwillinevitably get away with the sabotage. Money does that, creating opportunity with a fat bonus paycheck plenty will choose over their morals. People have a price, but as I look around the yard, meeting each man’s eyes, I know that not everyone’s price has to do with dollar signs.
“Ah, Rand. Can I talk to you?” a thin voice asks behind me.
I stare hard at West, willing the admission away. My foreman looks ready to kill someone, his fist clenched tightly around the fake bottle of tranquilizer we set up earlier. Holding up a discreet hand, I motion West to back down. His hands slip into his pockets, his heels pivoting in the dirt, kicking up tiny flurries in his wake that belay the enormity of his concealed fury.
“Yeah, Tripp. What’s up?” I ease Lanie into me, my hands tight on her. Kudos to my girl for not squeaking when I squeeze her too hard and turn to face my little liar on staff.
The young cowboy’s eyes flicker side to side as the yard grows still. Quiet. “Uh, can I get your opinion on something?” He jerks his head toward the barn, his voice rising with confidence, or maybe that’s some not so well-hidden anxiety. “Need some boss-level help.”
I watch the weedy younger man through lazy eyes, keeping every facial muscle relaxed, though it takes my utmost control not to allow my lip to curl.
“Tell me about it, huh? I’ve got to sort this out before we head into lunch. And Lanie and I…” I jerk my thumb back at West and then tip Lanie’s face up to me, rubbing my thumb over her bottom lip, letting the promise of everything I’ll do to her later fill the air between us.
That last part isn’t an act at all.
In my periphery, Tripp’s face whitens. “Well, about that. I might have, uh—” He falters.
“Might have what?” I raise my head, smiling.
Every action is carefully designed to encourage Jed’s little turncoat to spill his secrets, and now that we’re here, I’m far from willing to screw this moment up. It’s just my usual million-dollar negotiation. Except that this negotiation is personal.
“You know, the, uh, thing that West has…” Tripp trails off pitifully. His pale eyes dart around, but the yard is full of people, and every one of them keeps their distance.
