Crazy For You (21 page)

“I’ve thought a lot about how you would feel about me and your little sister.” Clint gave a small smile. “She’s not so little, you know.”

A stronger breeze rustled the leaves and Clint cocked his head to the side. A feeling came over him, an almost overwhelming sensation…

It was as if Bucky was talking to him and telling him that he approved. Clint’s body relaxed and he felt as if a weight was slipping away from him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wished he had Bucky’s approval. Bucky might not be there in the flesh, but was he there in spirit?

A sense of peace settled in Clint’s soul as he sat beside Bucky’s grave. A sense that everything was going to be all right.

And he could finally, truly forgive himself.

“Hi.” Ella’s voice drew Clint out of his thoughts.

He looked up and smiled. “Hi, honey.”

She eased down and sat close to him, her legs bent, her arms wrapped around her knees. For a long moment only the sound of birds in the trees interrupted the quiet. It was late afternoon, going on evening, the sun dipping lower in the sky.

“I miss him.” She shifted on the grass. “It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was following him around when I was just a kid.” She gave a little sigh. “When I was a teenager, I didn’t appreciate him enough. I didn’t tell him I loved him as much as I should have.”

“He knew.” Clint looked down at her. “You didn’t have to tell him.”

She leaned against Clint’s shoulder. He smiled and put his arm around her, drawing her tighter to him.

“I feel like Bucky’s spirit is here with us right now.” She spoke quietly as she snuggled against Clint. “I think he’s been watching us from Heaven all along.”

“He has been.” Clint kissed the top of her soft hair and breathed in her scent. “I’m sure of it.”

She shifted and tilted her face to look up at Clint. “He would have approved of us.”

Warmth filled Clint’s heart. “I think you’re right.”

She settled against him again, her head resting on his chest until the evening faded, and watched the sunset until the sun disappeared over the horizon.

* * * * *

The following day, Ella studied the sculpture. It was finished and it was probably the best work she’d ever done.

She ran her finger along the side of the cowboy’s face. Clint’s face. She wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but she had somehow captured the clean lines of his features, the power in his body and spirit, his expression of sheer determination.

The bucking horse beneath him had come to life in a way she’d never expected…the fluidity of the gelding’s body yet also the coiled power that could send its rider flying over its head.

She moved her gaze from the sculpture to the pencil drawing that she would frame as soon as she had a chance. The drawing contained minute detail that the sculpture couldn’t, like the fine lines at the corners of Clint’s eyes and the set of his jaw.

He was a good man, one of the best she’d ever known. When she was young it had all been about his handsome looks. Now it was so much more than that.

All the things he’d done for her family over the years—before he left and after his return—were amazing. He’d always helped out around the ranch. When he was younger, long before she was old enough to drive, he’d run errands in town for her parents. He’d helped Carl and Bucky build Alice’s greenhouse back then and had also helped build the arena where Bucky and Clint had practiced so many times for the rodeos they participated in. Clint had done so many things for her family that she couldn’t begin to think of them all.

He was such a caring lover, someone she knew she could spend the rest of her life with. She sighed. The more they were together, the more she thought that just maybe he would stay. She couldn’t imagine him not being there. He was a part of her now.

As she looked at the sculpture she wondered how she could ever sell it. But at the same time she knew it should be in the show.

A knock and her father’s voice turned her attention to the studio’s front door. “You in there, Ella?”

“Hold on.” She turned the drawing over, not ready for her father to see the sculpture’s resemblance to Clint. She slipped off her stool and scooted into a pair of jeans. In her bare feet, jeans, and tank top, she hurried to the door and opened it. “Hi, Dad.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

“How’s it going?” Carl squeezed her shoulders with one arm.

With a smile she said, “I just finished it.”

“Mind if I take a look?” he asked.

She nodded and gestured to the sculpture. “I’d love for you to.”

He went to the sculpture and looked it over for a long time before turning to her. “You did a real good job of capturing that young man.”

Her body warmed at the fact he had recognized Clint. He hadn’t seen the drawing and she hadn’t thought it was that obvious in the sculpture. “Thank you.”

“I want to let you know something.” Carl took her by her upper arms and held onto them as his eyes held hers. “You and Clint have your mom’s and my blessings. You’re real good for each other.”

Ella’s throat worked as she swallowed. “How did you know?”

He snorted. “The way you look at each other for starters. Or try not to look when your mother and I are around.” He glanced at the sculpture. “Not to mention, one hell of a lot of love went into making that.”

She gave him a sheepish look when he returned his gaze to hers. “Clint wanted to tell you but I stalled. I was a little worried about what you and mom would think.”

Carl rubbed her upper arms. “We’d be proud to have that young man be even more a part of this family than he already is.”

She bit her lower lip, not knowing what to say.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked, a concerned expression on his worn features.

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Everything’s fine, Dad.”

He studied her. “You’re worried Clint won’t stay.”

For a moment she couldn’t think of anything to say. “That obvious, huh?” She gave a little smile. “He hasn’t said one way or another, so I really don’t know.”

Carl’s return smile was a gentle one. “If I was bettin’ on him, I’d bet that young man isn’t planning on going anywhere.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything.

Carl gave her shoulders another squeeze. “I can get that old shotgun down from the top of the china cabinet.”

She laughed and hugged her father. “Don’t you dare.” She leaned back and looked at him. “I’ll be fine, Dad. One way or another, I’ll be fine.”

He nodded. “Your mom wants us to show up for dinner, so get cleaned up and come on down to the house.”

Ella glanced out of the window. She hadn’t realized it was already dinnertime. When she turned her gaze on her father, she said, “I’ll be right there. I just need to wrap up here.”

With a smile he tugged her braid before leaving the studio and closing the door behind him.

Clint swung his leg over the wood rails as he left Walt’s arena. The gelding he’d just ridden was eating feed Cody had put out for it. One of Walt’s older 4-H teenagers was holding the gelding’s rope.

“I think you just might be ready for the rodeo tomorrow,” Cody said as he walked back to join Clint and Walt.

Clint landed on his booted feet. “Come hell or high water, I’ll be there.”

“Knew you’d do it.” Walt spit tobacco to the side. “You can’t help yourself.”

Clint pushed the brim of his hat up with his finger. “How’s it going with your 4-H kids?”

“They’re ready.” Walt put his hand on the top rail of the fence. “But I’m getting too old for this.”

“You’re too mean to quit.” Clint grinned and Cody laughed.

“I’m damned serious.” Walt eyed Clint. “I’m tired, son. And I’d like you to take over for me.”

Clint shook his head. “There’s no replacing you.”

“That’s the truth,” Cody said. “You taught both of us and probably another hundred kids over the years.”

“At least,” Clint added.

Walt didn’t crack a smile. “You think about it real hard.”

“I’ll give it some thought,” Clint said.

The corner of Cody’s mouth turned up into a smile. “I take it that means you’re not leaving.”

Clint gave a slow nod. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then it’s settled.” Walt slapped Clint on his back. “I’ll tell the kids the next time we meet after the rodeo. You’ll be there.”

Clint hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “I didn’t say yes.”

“But you didn’t say no,” Cody said. “That’s as good as saying yes around here.”

Clint shook his head. “I’ll think about it,” he said but Cody just grinned.

Walt spit tobacco before looking at Clint with amusement. “How about a bite of dinner before you two head off?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got to get home.” Clint realized he’d slipped again, but this time didn’t correct himself.

“Did you tell Ella that you’re not leaving?” Cody asked as they walked toward their trucks.

“No, but she’s got to know,” Clint said.

Cody shook his head. “You’d better tell her. She’s not the kind of woman to assume anything.”

“I guess you’re right.” Clint opened the door to his truck.

There was a lot he hadn’t told Ella, and it was time he did.

* * * * *

Ella sneezed from dust as she walked along the arena fence at the rodeo grounds, trying not to bump into anyone in the crowded stands. Pennants snapped in the wind and the air was filled with scents of beer and concession stand foods from popcorn to soft pretzels to nachos.

It wasn’t that long ago that she’d run into Clint at the rodeo in Cave Creek and had slapped him. It had been such a shock to see him and had brought back so many memories—mostly unhappy ones because he’d disappeared the way he had after Bucky’s death.

She’d never expected to be sleeping with Clint, much less being so in love with him that her heart ached with it.

Now she understood why he’d left and had accepted it for what it was. She was happier than she’d ever been in her life, but a part of that was tinged with sadness. What if he left? Did he love her the way she loved him? If he did, would he stay? She shook her head. She wasn’t going to think about that at this time and place.

She climbed onto the first row of the stands, plopped down on the wood bench. She put her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands, and got ready for Johnny’s turn.

The fact that Clint was riding today set her on edge and her heart pounded in a way that it never had all the times she’d watched Johnny. She was always concerned for Johnny when he rode, but not in the same way she was worried about Clint. She’d never felt like this when she was young and had watched him and her brother. At that time it had seemed like they’d both live forever.

“And now, the reigning champion, Johnny Parker!” the announcer shouted. “Today he’s riding Dust Devil!”

Within moments, horse and rider burst from the chute. Immediately the horse bucked, looking almost feral as it tried to unseat its bareback rider.

Ella found herself holding her breath as she watched the horse buck and twist. Johnny hung on with a fluid grace that few riders could master. His riding style had always reminded her of a young Clint, and today they were competing against each other.

Johnny’s body was taking a punishment worse than any other rodeo sport, but he held on for the full eight seconds. Ella let out her breath, her own applause drowned out by the crowd’s cheering and shouts. Johnny jumped from his mount, hit the ground on his shoulder, and rolled to his feet. His hat had managed to stay on and he just dusted off the seat of his jeans and swaggered to the side of the arena to wait for his score.

The moment Johnny’s score was announced the crowd erupted into cheers. It was his highest score ever and he came within a point of Clint’s record score. Johnny pumped his fist before taking off his hat and waving it to the crowd then jogging out of the arena.

Clint was riding last so Ella had to endure two other riders, both scoring two points less than Johnny.

When Clint’s name was called, she thought her heart might stop. She sat straighter in her seat. Around her conversation, shouts, and laughter turned into white noise and the sound of her blood pumping filled her ears.

Even the words of the announcers faded and all she could think about was Clint. She hadn’t wanted him to ride but she’d known there was no sense in trying to convince him not to. It was just something he’d had to do and she’d support him no matter the consequences.

The announcers called out Clint’s name and the horse’s, too, but she could barely hear it through the noise in her ears. The crowd shouted out support for Clint, clearly happy to see an old favorite back.

A ball rose in her throat as the chute burst open and Clint’s horse flung itself into the arena. She tightened her hands into fists on her thighs and clenched her teeth.

It was the longest eight seconds she ever remembered experiencing. Like Johnny, Clint’s ride looked almost effortless despite the fierce bucking of the beast between his thighs.

When the eight-second buzzer sounded, Ella surged to her feet with the crowd. The ball still in her throat, she waited for him to dismount and let her breath out in a rush when he landed on his feet and jogged the few feet to where his hat had flown off.

Ella bounced up and down on her toes in excitement and relief. She applauded, more to give relief to her tense muscles than anything else.

Before Clint’s score was announced, he headed to the announcement stand and spoke to the announcers. Ella tilted her head to the side, wondering what he was talking to them about. When a mic was handed to him, it piqued her curiosity even more.

“I have an announcement of my own to make.” Clint’s voice reverberated over the speakers and the crowd quieted.

Clint moved his gaze across the stands until it landed on Ella. “Ella Fisher, please come here.”

Startled, it took Ella a moment to react. Clint beckoned to her with his free hand. Slowly she rose to her feet and stepped off the grandstand, grateful she was on the first row because she felt almost too nervous to walk, much less climb down from an upper level.