Beauty and the Bull Rider (12 page)

“I'll bet he was very eloquent about it,” she replied dryly.

“That he was,” Zac replied with a broad grin. “How about if we get something to eat and then I drop you off at home? Think you can throw some things together? It's too late to leave tonight. So we'll need to head out real early in the morning.”

“You're not planning to drive straight through, are you?” Delaney asked.

“I was,” he replied. “But I'm not in such a big hurry anymore if you're coming along. Ty and Monica are flying out Monday morning. If we leave early tomorrow, we can be there Saturday afternoon, even if we stop overnight.”

She took a breath and figuratively cast the dice. “All right, Zac, I'll take a chance. I'll go with you to Vegas.”

D
elaney was on the front porch, suitcase in hand, when Zac's dually came up the drive. Hopping out of the truck, he surprised her with a kiss on the lips before tossing her bag into the backseat of his truck.

“What was that for?” she asked.

He cocked his head. “Felt like it. Do I need to have any other reason?”

“No,” she said. “I guess not. I just didn't expect it.”

“You think and plan too much, Delaney. This trip aside, when was the last time you did anything spontaneous?”

She couldn't answer him because she didn't remember. She jutted her chin. “Maybe I don't want to be spontaneous. There's nothing wrong with having a plan,” she argued. “I just want to have a modicum of control over my life.”

“There's nothing wrong with that,” he said. “But sometimes plans fail,” he added with a heavenward glance. “You gotta remember we're not always the ones in control.” He opened her door and handed her up into the truck.

She couldn't argue that point. All of her plans seemed to have fallen apart lately. Until now, she'd held Zac to blame for most of it, but try as she might, she couldn't seem to summon any more anger at him.

“As for the kiss, I guess you'll just have to get used to it.” He leaned in close and stole another one. He closed her door with a grin and then joined her in the cab.

She still couldn't believe he'd talked her into going to Vegas with him. The idea both thrilled and terrified her, but in the end it was the ultimate test. Was this real? Or was it just infatuation? Spending several days and nights together would surely give her the answer.

The first couple hours of the trip passed companionably as Delaney and Zac talked about ranch work and common interests—mostly related to bulls. They were just about to leave the rolling hills of Oklahoma behind when Zac pointed out a herd of grazing bison in the distance.

“Did you know that the bison is our state animal?” he asked.

“No, I didn't. It's much more impressive than the animal Texas picked.”

“And what's that?” Zac asked.

“The armadillo.”

“Ever seen a trained buffalo?” Zac asked

“No. I haven't. Are they even trainable?” she asked.

“According to Tom Brandt they are. Ty's father trained one that he named Bill Cody. He even rode the damned thing.”

“I don't believe it,” Delaney said.

“It's true!” Zac insisted. “Tom and Will Morgan were rodeo stock contractors back in the day when the contractors put on the rodeos. Tom was mostly involved on the business side, whereas Wild Will was in charge of entertainment. The job was right up his alley, but Will was also a little too fond of the bottle and never met a wager he didn't like. One day, he and Tom were in a bar down in El Paso where a group of Mexicans were bragging on the superiority of Mexican fighting bulls over American bulls. Overhearing this, Will said he had an American bull that could kick the ass of any Mexican bull and offered to lay his money down.

“One of the Mexicans, a cocky vaquero named Alejandro Aguilar, accepted the wager. Two weeks later, Will and Tom hauled Bill Cody down to Juarez, to face Mexico's finest fighting bull. Word of the challenge had spread like wildfire on both sides of the border. Will and Tom were overwhelmed to find a crowd of thousands gathered as they backed their rig up to the arena and released the buffalo from the semi trailer they'd hauled him in. You can imagine the looks on their faces when ol' Bill Cody lumbered out of the trailer. Most of 'em had never even laid eyes on an American bison before. When Will had made the challenge, he'd only said he had a bull that could take on any Mexican bull. The Mexicans had naturally
assumed
he was talking about a bull of the bovine variety, but male bison are bulls too, so there was no backing out.

“As a performing animal, ol' Bill was oblivious to the thousands of spectators. He ambled around the bullring like he was taking a Sunday stroll. Worn out from his long trip, the shaggy bison reached the center of the ring, and flopped himself down to take a nap. The arena exploded with laughter at the very notion that this awkward, lazy creature could challenge their agile, athletic beast of destruction.

“Minutes later, the Mexican bull was released into the arena. The crowd surged to their feet with cheers and whistles. Agitated by the darts his handlers had embedded into his flesh, the belligerent bull lowered his head and charged across the arena like a juggernaut from hell.

“Awaking just in time from his snooze, Bill Cody pulled himself to his feet to meet the bull's charge head-on. A dust cloud arose several feet high at the impact of the fifteen-hundred-pound freight train blasting into the three-thousand-pound bovid mountain. When the dust cleared, the stunned Mexican bull lay on his knees. Breathless seconds passed before the animal shook away the cobwebs and took once more to his feet.

“The crowd cheered as their champion positioned himself for another attack, this time to the bison's more vulnerable flank, but the joke was on the Mexicans. None of them knew what Will Morgan knew—that, unlike bulls who pivot on their hind end, buffalos can spin on their forehand. So as the bull prepared for another go, intent on skewering his opponent with his horns, the bison spun his front end, once more absorbing the bull's full charge with his massive skull plate. But this time, the buffalo put some thrust behind it, launching the bull like a missile.

“Once recovered from the counterattack, the bull was so terrorized that he tried to climb out of the ring. The enraged Mexicans demanded a rematch. Moments later, a new contender roared out of the chutes to the same outcome as before. No matter what tactic he employed, the bison met him head-on. This scenario played out twice more with fresh bulls—to the same end. By the end of the day, not one, but four of the most celebrated fighting bulls had been vanquished by the bison, who then lay back down to resume his nap. Will offered quadruple his original wager but had no takers. The next day, with over ten grand in pesos lining his pockets, Will Morgan loaded Bill back on the trailer and headed back to Oklahoma.”

“Is this really true?” Delaney asked skeptically.

“Cross my heart,” Zac said with a grin. “Will retired him to pasture after that. In fact, he's even buried out on your ranch.”

“Oh my God!” Delaney declared, hand to mouth. “I've seen his gravestone before! I always thought it belonged to one of Ty's dead relatives.”

“I never saw the animal,” Zac said. “But I did see newspaper clippings from back when they traveled the rodeo circuit. Ty kept a whole scrapbook of those when he was younger.”

“I know you and Ty have been friends for a long time, but how did you first meet?” Delaney asked.

“Would it surprise you to know we were fierce rivals before we ever became friends?” Zac asked.

“Really?”

“Yup. It all dates back to high school, where we first met on the football field. We later competed against each other in the rodeo arena when we both rode bulls. Ty went on to college after graduation and I joined the pro bull-riding tour. After a couple of years, he showed up again on the circuit. We were still rivals, but both being short on cash, we started traveling together. We've been tight ever since, or were until . . .” His voice dropped off.

“Until I came along?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Things were rough for a while, but we're okay now.”

“I'm glad,” Delaney said. “I hate that I came between you.”

Zac shrugged. “I could say the same. But it's all water under the bridge, right?” He glanced her way.

“I don't resent him anymore,” Delaney confessed. “I did for the longest time, but now I just feel sorry for him.”

Zac eyed her curiously. “Why?”

“Because he puts on a good act, but he has to be lonely.”

Zac's brows drew together. “I think that's changed now.”

“So you think he's really serious about Monica?” she asked.

“Appears to be.” Zac slanted her a sidelong glance. “Does that bother you?”

“No. Surprisingly, it doesn't,” she answered. “I hope they'll make each other happy.”

Zac's chest tightened at her answer. It did a lot to resolve his apprehensions about her feelings for Ty. “Hungry?” he asked after an extended period of silence.

“Starving,” she confessed.

He was glad, having skipped breakfast in favor of putting some miles behind them. “We're coming up on Amarillo soon. Wanna stop for breakfast?”

“Sure. Do you have anyplace in mind?”

“Ever been there?” He pointed to a huge yellow billboard advertising T
HE
B
IG
T
EXAN
STEAK
R
ANCH
.

“Isn't that the place with the seventy-two-ounce steak challenge?”

“Sure is, but they also serve breakfast. It's one of the biggest tourist traps in Texas with food that's overpriced and mediocre at best, but it's still worth stopping if you're passing through Amarillo.”

“Ever taken the challenge?” Delaney asked.

“I'm
always
up for a challenge. A real man never backs down from one.”

“So you did it?” she asked. “You actually ate four and a half pounds of steak in one sitting?”

He looked abashed. “I tried six times and failed. It was one of those macho cowboy things.”

“You're kidding!” Delaney laughed. “I was watching the Food Network and saw a one- hundred-twenty-pound woman from Nebraska eat two of them.”

“That's damned humiliating to the whole male gender,” Zac replied with a doleful head shake. “We're passing by the Cadillac ranch real soon. I can stop if you want any pictures. It's quite a sight to see all those old cars half buried in the ground out in the middle of nowhere.”

A few miles later, Zac pulled off the highway to let Delaney snap some pictures of the graffiti-covered cars with her iPhone. Having driven these roads most of his life, he'd taken the sights for granted until he saw everything through Delaney's eyes. She seemed to enjoy it all with a childlike delight. “You haven't taken many road trips, have you?” he asked.

“No. I haven't,” she confessed. “My family travelled a lot when I was growing up, but not like this. We went to top-notch resorts and avoided all of the hokey tourist traps. It's kinda fun though, isn't it?”

“Hokey?” Zac repeated in mock affront. “Guess I'll have to strike the Clown Motel from the itinerary.”

“You're kidding, right?”

“Nope,” he replied with a laugh. “It's in Tonopah, Nevada, coupla hours north of Vegas. If you don't believe me, you can look it up on your phone once we have signal again.”

“I hate clowns, Zac.” She shuddered. “I've always been creeped out by them.”

“Then I guess I'd best scratch that reservation at Circus Circus,” he replied with a teasing look.

A few miles later, they pulled into the parking lot of a garish yellow diner flanked with a giant cowboy boot and longhorn cow. “Ty and I stopped here a lot when we were traveling the circuit. In addition to the motel, they have a pool shaped like the state of Texas and a separate hotel just for horses.”

The breakfast was an overpriced buffet the size of Texas. After refueling on huevos rancheros with a generous side of bacon, a mountain of pancakes, and biscuits with sausage gravy, they were ready to hit the road again.

“How much farther is it to Albuquerque?” she asked.

“'Bout four hours,” he replied. “Give or take. I was thinking to break the trip there as it's about the midway point to Vegas. We can stay in town if you like, but I've got a buddy whose family runs a guest ranch maybe twenty miles east of the city. It's situated along a stretch of the Rio Grande at the base of the Sandia Mountains. I usually bunk there whenever I'm traveling. The cabins are rustic, but they have everything you need and the sunsets are gorgeous.”

Not to mention they offered the privacy he craved. He'd made a call the night before in the hope she'd agree to stay there. The last thing he wanted after waiting so long to be with Delaney was to spend their first night together in some cheap roadside motel. The cabins were ideal—quiet and, best of all, very private.

“That sounds great, Zac. I think I'd like that.” She rested her hand on his thigh. It was an intimate and mildly possessive gesture he hadn't expected. Was it a nervous reaction, or was she purposely ramping his anticipation? He was already running in overdrive.