Reunited With The Bull Rider
Callie found her car keys in the deep recesses of her purse and held the door open so Reed could crutch through. His aftershave wafted around her. Pine and leather. Strong scents. Strong, like Reed.
No. She wasn’t going to think things like that. He was just a client, not boyfriend material. He hadn’t been after high school and nothing had changed. In fact, she was even more wary of getting involved with yet another man.
Callie was just tired of putting effort into another relationship. She was tired, just plain tired.
Reed’s magnetism was lethal and, therefore, Callie had to be extra cautious. She had to reinforce that wall around her and wear a Kevlar vest to protect her heart.
They both slid into her ancient SUV and Callie turned the key. It started with a moan and a groan, but it started. She patted the dashboard. “Good job, Ruby.”
“Ruby?” Reed asked as she aimed the vehicle toward the long exit out of the ranch.
“It used to be red, but now it’s mostly faded to pink. I should call it Pinky.”
He grinned. “I’m guessing that it’s about ten years old.”
“Close. It’s twelve years old.”
He chuckled. “You really should put it out of its misery.”
“Then what do I drive?” she asked.
“Another car. Maybe something newer.”
“When you find a money tree, let me know where it is.”
“Oh, I see. Sorry.” Reed was quiet for quite a while before he started talking again.
“Callie, I’ll never forget the day and night of our senior prom. I loved taking you and showing you off. And at graduation, when you were valedictorian, your speech was a pitch for the graduates to stay in Beaumont and make it bigger and better. I liked that.”
“I figure that only about one-third of them moved. I’ve kept track throughout the years. Some even returned.”
Reed snapped his fingers. “Let’s throw a reunion. We can have it at the practice arena on the ranch. I’ll order some tents. It’d be great to see everyone.”
“You want to have a party on the same spot where you practice riding bulls?”
“Yeah. I don’t have any practice bulls here yet, if it’s the manure you’re thinking of.”
Callie couldn’t plan a party right now. She had enough work to do being the personal assistant to the Beaumonts. “Um, uh...maybe when I have everything organized, having a reunion is something to think about.”
“Don’t you ever have fun, Callie?”
“Basically...no. Not since high school. I’ve been juggling many balls in the air. I have responsibilities and obligations.”
“Responsibilities and obligations? Sounds serious.”
“It is. They are.” She decided to change the subject because she sounded like such a dud. Maybe she was, but such was life. “I liked the prom. If I remember correctly, Tiffany McGrath, head cheerleader, was the prom queen and you were king.”
“I wonder what Tiff is doing now.”
“She lives on Maple Street and has three kids. She married Josh Nelson. Remember how everyone called him Nerdy Nelson? He’s not. He’s a full-time investment broker and a volunteer firefighter. Tiff has her own gift shop on Main Street—Gifts by Tiff.”
“Tiff had dreams of working for the United Nations. She was studying three languages.” He shook his head. “She wanted to move out of Beaumont and go to a big city.”
“Things change, Reed. People change. She told me that she wanted to raise her family in Beaumont.”
“That’s nice.” He paused, as if he were thinking, then asked, “Do you ever regret not going to New York?”
“Maybe, but here I have responsibilities and—”
“Obligations,” Reed finished.
“Yes.”
She couldn’t leave if she wanted to. She was entrenched in Beaumont, and her mother had her own local doctors who’d saved her from breast cancer ten years ago, and she hoped they’d be able to do it again now.
Her twin brothers would be leaving for college soon, but Beaumont was where they loved to be right now—in the small bungalow on Elm that she’d bought for them. Well, the bank owned it, but as long as she kept working as hard as she had been and kept up with the taxes and the monthly payments, no one would ever evict them again.
Never.
“Is the TV station still on Wells Avenue?” Reed asked.
“Yes. And we’re cutting the time short. You won’t have much time to prepare.”
“I’ve done a million of these things. I don’t need to prepare. ‘Reed, what made you become a bull rider?’ I’ll answer, ‘I love the adrenaline rush and the friends that I’ve made. And being with my brothers is another reason why I love riding. To love what you’re doing and make money doing it...well, it doesn’t get any better than that.’”
Callie chuckled. “I guess you don’t need to prepare after all.”
“If he asks me that question first, I’ll buy us coffee.”
“If he asks you that first, I’ll buy us lunch,” Callie said in a moment of exuberance she hadn’t felt in a long time. Goofy bets with Reed had been some of the best times of her teen years, and no one else she’d dated since he’d left had made her laugh like he had.
Callie parked in front of the station and they both hurried into the lobby, where Reed was whisked away to the booth. Callie was directed to a viewing room, where she settled into a comfy chair.
The announcer nodded to Reed. “With us is champion bull rider Reed Beaumont. Reed, tell the audience why you decided to ride bulls.”
Reed looked at Callie through the window of the booth, grinned and winked. Then he launched into his memorized speech.
Callie enjoyed watching him. He was in his element, casual and charming, informative and humble. She could tell he was excited about all aspects of bull riding and appreciated the PBR.
She used to be that excited about studying advertising and marketing. The internet had made everything so exciting. Besides, facts and figures were her strong suit, and developing spreadsheets was exhilarating. And who didn’t adore pie charts?
She studied Reed. He was sitting on a chair with wheels and his left arm was up in the air. Callie could hear how he was retelling one of his rides on Cowabunga, his nemesis.
Reed’s face was animated; his now sapphire eyes were twinkling—it was clear he simply loved the sport.
Then his interview was over and he stared at his crutches for a few seconds before he picked them up. She was probably the only one who noticed the slump of his shoulders and the droop at the corners of his mouth when he looked at them.
He wanted to be riding bulls. Even Beaumont probably ran second place to his love of riding bulls.
“Callie, do you want to grab that lunch you owe me? I’m famished. It’s on me because you drove me here.”
“It’s on me. I lost the bet. Besides, I don’t need any payback.”
“I know, but I’d like to treat you.”
She smiled. “I really should get back to work.”
“You pick the place,” Reed said as if he hadn’t heard her.
“If you like Italian food, I’d suggest Poppa Al’s Restaurant on Main and Willow.”
“Sounds great.” He moved, but his crutches didn’t. She could see the pain register on his face and how it hurt when his right leg bore some weight.
They walked toward Callie’s SUV. “I’m hoping that this thing heals fast because I keep my rank.” He stopped walking and turned to her. “Okay, who’s your favorite rider?”
“Probably your brother Luke,” she lied. “He can ride anything with hair.”
Reed put his hands over his heart. “I’m wounded.”
“Yes, you are.” She pointed to his leg, then aimed the key fob at her ancient SUV to unlock it. Sometimes it worked; sometimes it didn’t. Today it didn’t, so she unlocked the driver’s side manually and leaned over to open the passenger side for Reed.
“You need to let your knee heal. You shouldn’t have done that interview.”
Reed sighed. “Rick said it’d be good publicity for us and for the PBR. I was committed to it.”
“Committed to it? You didn’t even remember—”
“That’s why I need a personal assistant, Callie. I got so much on my mind.”
“By going back to riding too soon, wouldn’t you be jeopardizing your life? I mean, if you have a knee injury that hasn’t healed yet, when your ride is over, can you hurry and run away before the bull pounds you into the dirt?” Callie asked.
“I might be a little slow getting away.”
“Then you are jeopardizing the lives of the bullfighters whose job it is to protect you.”
He paused for a while. “I’ll give them a heads-up. But you have to remember that almost every bull rider rides with injuries.”
“I suppose so, Reed, but I hate to see you hurt.”
“It almost sounds like you care.”
“Yeah, I care. I do. I don’t want to see any of you riders hurt.”
Reed put his hand on her shoulder and left it there for several beats. Her mouth suddenly went dry and her heart pounded in her ears.
She steeled herself and sternly reminded her heart that she’d had four serious relationships that never ended at the altar for various reasons.
And she was counting Reed, too. He’d been the first one.
Callie didn’t want Reed touching her, even if it was on top of a blouse and a sleeveless plaid vest. She’d sworn off men.
She was going to ignore him as best as she could while working in his house. She had to clean up Big Dan’s study and, by doing so, referrals to her business would soar.
She could pay her mortgage, maybe pay it off sooner that she needed to. Maybe she could even buy a bigger house.
And she could pay medical bills, her mother’s medical bills from her recent cancer treatments and her brothers’ from their sports injuries.
It seemed like a good plan. She’d just have to stay away from Reed and all the distractions that came with him.
Easy, right?
Chapter Two
Reed wondered why Callie seemed so nervous.
When he’d put his hand on her shoulder, he’d thought she was going to jump as high as Cowabunga.
He’d just felt as if he’d known her forever, which was true. He remembered her shyness that first day of school at the huge building his ancestor Charlie Beaumont had erected for grades kindergarten through twelve. Everyone growing up in Beaumont went to that brick monstrosity on the hill. The next nearest school was in Waterville, a three-hour drive away.
That first day, Callie had clung to the wall like a coat of paint. Reed had taken her hand and led her to a seat because, as a member of the First Family of Beaumont, that’s what he did.
Reed wondered if Callie remembered that.
They’d kept a friendship brewing until a month before high school ended. They’d been inseparable that short summer until he’d left for the PBR.
He’d gone on the circuit; she’d stayed.
Could they pick up where they’d left off?
That was unrealistic. That bull had left the chute.
Callie never talked much about her problems. However, gossip had swirled when the story about her father taking up with a rich, older woman, Tish Holcomb, and leaving his family with a lot of credit card debt got around town.
In contrast, Reed’s life was an open book. He was usually in the spotlight due to his world ranking with the PBR. To him, there wasn’t a question that was off-limits, other than the name of who he was dating.
There were always a lot of women hanging around him whenever he went out or whenever he was autographing. Truth be told, he’d rarely dated. He was too busy keeping his rank. Every minute of his life was devoted to becoming a better bull rider.
He loved traveling with his brothers on the circuit—they had a lot of laughs and traded riding tips—but he definitely wanted to win the PBR Finals. To expedite his goal, he jogged. He worked out. He rode practice bulls, and while other riders, including his little brother, Jesse, were partying, Reed was doing yoga and pushups in his hotel room.
If he’d partied like Jesse, he couldn’t ride the next morning. Maybe it was because Jesse was two years younger.
It was Reed’s turn to win the Finals. He wanted to get out from under Luke’s shadow. Maybe he’d catch a break and Luke wouldn’t return to the PBR after his honeymoon.
No. He’d rather beat him fair and square.
Luke was riding high. He’d married the woman of his dreams, Beaumont Sheriff’s Deputy Amber Chapman just after the World Finals in Vegas last November. With seven months of marriage under his belt, Luke was riding high with Amber.
Reed constantly wondered when it would be his turn to fall in love with a special person, like Luke had. No matter how much he loved riding bulls, he’d give it all up in a heartbeat to start a family.
He longed to model his kids’ childhoods with the one he’d had. He and his brothers had had the whole Beaumont Ranch as their playground. They’d ridden horses, bikes, ATVs and various ranch equipment. The cowboys who worked the ranch had told them stories about the “golden days” of the Beaumont Ranch.
Those had been the carefree days...before his mother had died.
When Valerie Lynn was kicked in the head by a horse over three years ago and died, his family had never been the same. His father, Big Dan, had developed an alcohol problem and was now a ghost of his former robust self.
Big Dan hadn’t wanted the ranch repaired and fixed to the way it had been. He’d wanted it left the same as the second his beloved wife died. It had been left the same, until Hurricane Daphne hit soon after. Then Big Dan was about to lose the ranch to taxes.
That was when the Three Musketeers had stepped in, pooled their money and become the owners of the ranch.
He marveled at the comfortable silence between Callie and him. Any other woman would find it necessary to fill the quiet with mindless chatter.
Reed was simply content to ride through Beaumont with Callie, seeing old haunts and marveling at new construction—new to him at least.
His stomach growled and Callie laughed. “I think you’ll like Poppa Al’s Restaurant, Reed. Their specialty is chicken parm. It’s delicious.”
“Chicken parm sounds good to me,” he said.
They both got out of the car and, as he retrieved his crutches, he cursed the famed Cowabunga under his breath for his damaged knee.
“What’s the matter?” Callie asked. “You doing okay?”
“I’m sick of these crutches already. I could go without them, but it hurts like the devil. Hell, it hurts like the devil with them.”
“Then use the crutches, Reed.” Callie jogged a few steps ahead and opened the door to make it easier to pass through.
He walked through. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
A man came out from behind the bar, took Reed’s hand and began pumping it. “Well, if it isn’t Reed Beaumont, the great bull rider! It’s about time you visited my place.”
It took a split second for Reed to recognize Alphonse Giacomo. They’d played football together on the high school team. According to the Beaumont Bulletin, which he read online to keep current with the happenings of his hometown when he was on the road, Al had gone on to play professionally, but an injury had forced him to retire.
“And Callie Wainright!” He pulled Callie into a big bear hug. “It’s good to see you again. My Susan was just talking about hiring you to keep our books straight. She doesn’t trust me to do it correctly and thinks we’re going to land in federal prison. That’s my wife, five feet three inches and one hundred twenty-five pounds of total worry.”
They all laughed.
“Have her call me.” A business card appeared in Callie’s hand and she held it out to Al. He took it and slipped into the pocket of his checked pants.
“We’ll call you for sure, Callie.”
“So, you’re Poppa Al?” Reed asked, adjusting his crutches.
“Guilty as charged. I only wanted to open a spumoni stand, but look at this!” He spread his arms wide to show how big his place was. “I can hold two wedding receptions at the same time—or one huge one.”
Al looked from Callie to Reed and back again. His thick black eyebrows rose as he rubbed his hands together in glee. “So, are you here to book your wedding?”
“Uh...um...” Callie began, a blush starting on her neck then settling on her cheeks. “No.”
Reed just laughed. “We’re here for your chicken parm.”
“You’ll love it,” Al said. “I make it from scratch. And I’ll make you an antipasto to share. It’s on the house. Now sit. Sit in the first booth. It’s very romantic.”
Al disappeared through swinging metal doors and Reed turned to Callie. “Shall we sit in the romantic booth?”
Callie shrugged. “Al seems to have made up his mind that we’re to sit there.”
Unlike Reed, Callie didn’t seem to be enjoying Al’s funny misunderstanding. Reed winked. “Then let’s not disappoint him,” he said as he hung his crutches from the coat hook.
They both slid into the red vinyl booth with the white Formica table. “I hope we don’t get indigestion from the romantic booth,” he added, grinning.
“It’d be a shame if we did. It would spoil the experience.” Callie’s eyes twinkled.
Reed enjoyed her lighter mood.
He looked around and was impressed. “I didn’t know Al Giacomo owned this place.”
“Al just opened a couple months ago. In another hour, there’ll be a line around the building. The word is out that if you want a good meal in Beaumont, go to Al’s.”
“This is a nice surprise, Callie. I’d lost touch with Al. Actually, I’ve lost touch with many of my pals in Beaumont. Too much traveling, another circle of friends and I don’t get home all that much.”
“How long are you going to be here this time?”
“Probably three months. I’m planning on going back after the summer break. Since I’m healing, I figure it’s my turn to work on the ranch. Luke did the majority of fixing up the ranch house after Hurricane Daphne, along with the barn. I am going to do more work on the barn and supervise fixing up the ramrod’s house. Luke said it needs a new roof and some remodeling inside. Then Jesse will take his turn and work on an addition to our bull breeding facility, and a new bunkhouse for the hired hands. The old one’s coming down.”
“You’re just about rebuilding the whole ranch.”
A waitress came and dropped off frosty classes of water. “Hi, Callie.”
“How are you doing, Darlene?” Callie said then turned to Reed. “Dar’s grandparents retired here and Dar is living with them for the summer. She’s working and going to Oklahoma State in the fall.”
“Nice. What are you taking up?” Reed asked.
Her cheeks turned pink. “Um, uh...in hospital...hospitality, I mean. Hospitality.”
Reed made eye contact with Callie, whose hands were over her mouth. She knew Darlene was having a hard time being a cool fan, whereas Reed was used to different reactions.
Some fans were terribly nervous; others were blatantly sexually aggressive. Luckily, more were nervous. He could deal with those fans, but the young ones who came on to him? Well, those made him nervous.
Darlene turned to Reed and giggled. “Uh... I’ve never done this before, but could I have your autograph, Reed?”
“Sure!”
“Wait here. Don’t move!” she ordered.
Callie burst out laughing then sobered. “We’re eating here, so we’re not going to move. Did she forget that? I wonder if it’s your celebrity or your handsomeness that has Darlene so overwhelmed.”
“It’s both. I’m sure it’s both,” Reed deadpanned, then raised an eyebrow. “But you think I’m handsome?”
“I...um...uh...”
Darlene returned out of breath and saved Callie from more stammering. She handed Reed a white foam take-out box.
“A take-out box?” Callie grinned. “But, Darlene, we haven’t had our meal yet.”
“I know, but this is all I could find for Reed to sign.” She handed him the box and a ballpoint pen. “J-just don’t press too h-hard or you’ll p-punch a hole in the top.”
He wrote his usual “Thanks for being a fan! Best wishes, Reed Beaumont” then added the city and date. He also added her name.
Smiling and holding out his hand, he waited several seconds before she realized what to do. She wiped her hands on her black apron and then held one out to him. They shook as she grinned widely.
“I am sorry to bother you again, but can I take a picture of you?”
“Absolutely.”
She positioned her cell phone and pushed the icon several times. “Thanks, uh... Reed.”
“But don’t you want to be in the picture, too, Darlene?” Reed asked.
“Can I?”
“C’mon.”
Without a word Darlene handed her cell phone to Callie.
Callie stifled another grin. “Sure, I’d be glad to take your picture with Reed.
Callie took four pictures of Reed sitting in the booth with Darlene next to him, then handed back the phone.
“Thanks, Reed.”
“You’re welcome, Darlene.”
Darlene scurried away, her cell phone next to her heart.
Every once in a while, Callie realized what a celebrity Reed was. Not only did he receive bags full of fan mail, but obviously women fawned over him. Everyone knew that he was a real athlete in a very dangerous sport, but to Callie, he was Reed Beaumont, the man who chose riding bulls over her. Reed sat back in the booth. “Sorry about that.”
“Sorry...about what? Oh, you mean about Darlene? You were very sweet to her. She’ll remember this moment for a lifetime.”
“I hope not.”
“I was her age once. I know.”
“Now, what were we talking about? Oh, yes. The PBR and you, I think,” she said.
“Since I had the summer off from the PBR, I wanted to catch a couple rides on some of the other circuits so I could boost my points, but my injury put a halt to those plans.”
Callie nodded. “If you do what you’re supposed to, you’ll be healthy for the PBR when things start back up. It’s only the end of May. You can do it if you’d stay off of it and rest.”
“Will you hold my hand if I have to go to the hospital?”
“Oh! The brave, big-shot bull rider is too chicken to have surgery!”
“No,” he said quickly, softly. “I’m just too chicken to go to the same hospital where my mother died.”
Callie met his eyes. “I’m sorry, Reed. I didn’t think.”
He put his hand over hers. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to blurt that out. I was the one who didn’t think.”
She put her hand over his. “Obviously it’s bothering you. You could go to another hospital.”
“And not go to the one that Great-Gramps Cyrus Beaumont built? I’d be drummed out of the family, or what’s left of it.”
* * *
SHE REMOVED HER hand when the antipasto came and he felt deprived of her warmth. He knew she was only embarrassed for what she’d said, but he liked the feel of hers over his.
He looked down at the large platter. A mountain of lettuce was heaped high, a display of various meats, cheeses, tomatoes, tuna and veggies artfully piled on top.
Reed sighed. “Does Al expect us to eat all this plus a meal?”
“Yes. He does.” Callie picked up the big fork and spoon on the side of the platter.
“No wonder it’s the romantic booth. We could live here in this booth for a week eating one meal.”
“You on one side on the booth and me on the other?” Callie giggled. “That’s not very romantic! We should be on the same side at least, just like the front seat of a car.”
“I remember many great times with you in the front seat of my car!”
She laughed.
Reed thought Callie’s playful spirit was slowly returning and that made him glad. She seemed so sad sometimes, and guilt would overwhelm him as he was responsible for some of that.
He remembered how Callie was always hell bent on helping others and working hard, and he loved that about her, to a point. He didn’t want her to overextend herself and make herself sick. On top of that, he knew how much she anguished about her mother’s health, worried about her brothers and paying for their injuries, and was anxious about keeping a roof over all their heads. Nothing ever changed with her.