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However, there was one problem. “Whirlwind is in top form, and I would never deny him this chance,” she said. “But my sister’s baby is due early in May. With my luck, she’ll deliver the week of finals, and I want to be there for her. I may need somebody else to bring Whirlwind to the competition.”
“Of course. Family comes first,” Rafferty said. But his tone suggested that Tess’s choice might damage her standing, as well as Whirlwind’s.
“Ruben, my foreman, should be able to bring him. He’s been hauling rodeo bulls for years. If anything, he’s more experienced than I am.”
“I’m not doubting that. But the publicity people were hoping you’d be there for TV interviews. Women who raise bucking bulls are always good press. And I suppose that means Shane won’t be available either. He did a great job with color commentary last time.”
“I can’t speak for Shane,” Tess said. “Let’s just hope the baby’s timing works out for all of us.”
“For now, I guess that’s all we can do.” Rafferty shrugged. “But that’s not why I came to find you. I know Whirlwind is scheduled to buck tonight. But we’ve had a bull drop out of the final round tomorrow. I was hoping we could move Whirlwind to his place. It would mean you’d have to delay your departure.” He paused, clearly waiting for an answer.
“Yes, that’s fine.” Tess pounced on the chance to show Whirlwind off to an even bigger crowd, and maybe even carry the winning rider. Staying overnight, even if it meant sleeping in the truck, would be worth the inconvenience.
“Well, then, it’s settled. Get yourself a good night’s rest, and I’ll get back to you with the details tomorrow.”
Tess watched him walk away, his bowlegs lending a distinctive sway to his gait. Her original plan had been to head home tonight after the event, but surviving on overpriced midway snacks, washing up in the public restroom, and catching a few hours of shuteye on the truck’s cramped back seat was nothing new. The Alamo Canyon Ranch couldn’t afford fancy meals or hotel rooms. Besides, she preferred to stay where she could keep an eye on Whirlwind. Too bad she hadn’t at least brought a toothbrush and a change of underwear. Maybe there was a Walmart within walking distance.
Looking back across the parking lot, she could see Brock’s long silver trailer. It was a sure bet he wouldn’t be sleeping in a truck tonight. His hired help bunked in a comfy compartment that was built into the trailer. They lived better on the road than she did. But what did it matter? At least she had the best bull. Wasn’t that what counted?
She’d often wondered how someone got to be as wealthy as Brock Tolman. According to Shane, Brock had made some smart investments. But it took money to make money. Had Brock used family funds to get started? Had he sold some property, or even done something illegal, like dealing drugs or setting up a Ponzi scheme?
When it came to Brock Tolman, she only knew what he wanted her to know. And she didn’t like it.
Maybe she should have accepted his invitation to lunch. Meeting some of his business contacts might have given her a clue about his activities.
But then she would have missed the chance to talk with Clay Rafferty.
Now she went back to check Brock’s bulls. She found them relaxing in their pen, none of them showing any sign of a snakebite. To pass the time, she wound her way among the pens, admiring the bulls and chatting with people she’d met at other events. Despite its inherent rivalry, the stock contracting business was like family. People knew and cared about one another.
Several of them asked about Casey’s injury. Tess assured them that he’d be back on his feet in a few weeks. She could only hope that was true. The arena was half of Casey’s life. The other half was Val. The loss of either would destroy him.
A faint rumble below her ribs told Tess that she was getting hungry. She’d started her day before dawn, with only coffee for breakfast. Now it was past noon. The beef and lettuce sandwiches in the cooler would be filling, with enough left over to last her through supper tonight. Tomorrow it would be chili dogs and sodas until she could load Whirlwind into his trailer, fill her thermos with coffee, and head back to the ranch. If all went as planned, she’d be home in time to get a few hours of sleep before morning chores. After that, the first item on her list would be getting secure quarters ready for Quicksand’s arrival.
She’d left the pens and was crossing the parking lot when Brock’s shiny black truck pulled up in front of her, blocking her path.
The driver’s side window opened. “I hope you haven’t eaten lunch. I brought you some barbecue.” He held out a Styrofoam takeout container. Her first impulse was to turn down his high-handed offer. But as the mouthwatering aroma reached her, Tess found her resistance crumbling like a mud wall in a storm. If Brock was trying to push her buttons, he’d chosen the right one.
“Thank you,” she said. “As a matter of fact, I’m starved.”
She reached up to take the container, but he laughed and pulled it back inside. “Not so fast, lady. Let me park, and I’ll bring it to you. Meet me at those picnic tables next to the pens.”
The tables had been set up for workers and contract people at the arena—one long one and a couple of small ones with umbrellas for shade. Only a few people were using them. With the sun getting warm, Tess took a seat under one of the umbrellas and waited.
She had no illusions about Brock’s motives. This was a power play, making her sit here like a trained dog while he parked and brought her food. She reined back the urge to get up and leave. Only by staying might she learn what the man had in mind—if that was even possible.
A few minutes later, he appeared with two takeout containers. Sitting, he passed one across the table to her, along with a tall plastic cup of iced tea. Then he opened the other for himself. The meals were identical—barbecued brisket, baked beans, coleslaw, and a thick slice of Texas toast.
“I thought you were going to lunch,” Tess said.
“I did. But I passed on the buffet because I’d decided I’d rather share some barbecue with my partner. This little place is the best.”
Tess forked a bite of brisket into her mouth. It was fall-apart tender, the sauce rich and tangy. “It’s good,” she conceded. “But what I really want is for you to cut the crap and tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Tess, Tess.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Why do I get the feeling that, as hard as I try to be nice, you still don’t trust me?”
“Maybe because nice isn’t part of your nature. When you show your horns, that’s when I know I’m dealing with the real Brock Tolman. But when you bring me free barbecue, that’s when I go on alert. So just tell me.”
He took a sip of iced tea. “All right. I do have something in mind. You might even like it.”
