Rodeo Blues (3 page)

He glanced toward the stage when he heard two
men arguing. He smiled when he caught sight of Sonny and Mike going
at it. The spat seemed to be over where the speakers should be
placed.

They still had the band. He wondered if they
went by the
Brothers in Time
, the name they
came up with in high school. Mike had wanted Brothers from Another
Mother, but they'd all vetoed it. Jimmy had been the one to suggest
the final name they could all agree upon. Back then, he sang a
little, but he fancied strumming the guitar over vocals. Sonny and
Mike always argued how things should be done and by the looks of
it, they hadn't found a way to compromise on the decision making
yet.

His steps took him over to the stage where
Mike and Sonny's voices became clearer.

"I told you already, Mike, you ain't shootin'
off no fire contraption in here. Do you want to burn down the
place?" Sonny was lean and dark haired. He dated one gal in high
school, named Ora Ann. He married her three days before graduation,
not because there'd been a reason other than they loved each other.
He glanced at the man's ring finger. Looked like he was still
married to her. Mike on the other hand wasn't wearing a ring. That
might be a good thing. He'd been dating a girl in high school, but
they argued all the time. He never thought they'd belonged
together, but who was he to judge?

"Hey, boys." Tye said in greeting.

Both men turned toward him in unison. Mike
was the first to recognize him and let out a whooping yell of
greeting before he grabbed hold of him and pounded his back.

Tye stood six-two, Mike was two inches taller
and solid muscle. He'd forgotten how strong Mike was and had to
catch his balance after his friendly
how-do-you-do
of a welcome.

Sonny offered a handshake. "Hey Casper.
Thought we heard the last of you when you skedaddled out of here to
ride them bulls."

"I told you I'd be back."

Sonny's dark brows rose. "Didn't realize it
would be a decade later."

"Hey, the band's playing tonight," Mike said,
as if Tye couldn't figure that one out on his own. "You should join
us, and maybe sing a song or two. It would be like old times."

Tye glanced at Sonny, who had stiffened at
Mike's invitation. "I don't think so," Tye said and shook his head.
"I haven't done much singing of late."

"Guess it's a little hard to sing when you're
being thrown on your keister. Kinda knocks the wind out of ya."
Sonny's voice held an edge to it, but Tye wasn't sure why. "Hear
you're called the Ghost Rider these days."

"It's the name they branded me with on the
circuit. Didn't know you kept track of it."

"I have a cousin who has done a few rodeos."
Sonny shrugged. "Seems you ain't half bad at what you do, or so
he's told me. Would have been nice if you gave us all a call once
in a while. Would have done so myself, but it seems your phone
number ain't listed."

So that was why Sonny seemed PO'd. Couldn't
blame him, but he had his reasons. He didn't want the boys asking
him when he planned to come home. Didn't want them telling him
Jolie had moved on and forgotten all about him. "I've been
selfish," he said to Sonny, and then glanced at Mike too. "I know.
Didn't mean to shut you all out, but stupidity got the better of
me. My keister wasn't the only thing knocked around." He tapped his
head and grinned, hoping Sonny would take the apology for what it
was worth.

Sonny's mouth slowly curved into a genuine
smile. "Well then, I suppose it's our luck you found your way back
home."

Apology accepted
, he
thought in relief. "Thanks." Tye then scanned the room. He liked to
catch up with the guys, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He was a
tad anxious at the thought of seeing Jolie again. He couldn't begin
to hope his meeting with her would go so smoothly.

"You lookin' for someone in particular, Tye?"
Sonny asked with a smirk.

His mouth slid into an easy smile, not
willing to beg for the information, though clearly Sonny thought he
should. "Just looking," he said with a shrug.

"Jolie don't come here too often," Mike
offered, picking up on what he truly wanted to know. Sonny rolled
his eyes at Mike.

Thank-you-Mike for not
playing the game.
"Oh," he said and didn't quite keep the
disappointment out of his voice.

"But it looks like tonight's your lucky
night, Ghost Rider." Sonny gestured toward the entrance with a nod
of his head.

Tye tried to be cool when he turned toward
the door, but his heart did a sputter in his chest, threatening to
stop. Five-foot four of pure woman sauntered in with a purpose. Her
long hair was pulled up on the sides, while the rest cascaded down
her back in waves of dark mahogany. Her jeans were molded to her
figure and the white-laced blouse stood open two buttons from the
top, revealing enough skin to make him wish for more.

Sonny's low chuckled irked him. "You're
drooling, Tye."

"Shut your pie hole, Sonny," he muttered.

"Sure am glad you're back," Mike said with a
laugh. "The sparks will fly around this town now. Been too damn
quiet, if you ask me."

Jolie hadn't seen him yet. She weaved around
the crowd and headed toward the bar where a tall woman, with
two-toned hair, stood waving her over.

"It's now or never," Mike sang in his low
baritone. "Will Tye make his—"

He threw Mike a dagger-like look and the big
man's voice choked into a laugh.

"I'm going. I'm going," Tye said and took a
step only to be shanghaied by Buddy Meilak who was with the rodeo
too. Five-foot ten and solid as a rock, he could rope a calf in
less than seven seconds, and was the best bullfighter he'd ever
come across. He played to the crowd in a clown outfit, road
barrels, and acted like a goofball, but what this guy truly did for
a living was no laughing matter. He'd saved his arse more times
than he wished to count from a bull who'd like to spear him or
trample him to death. Neither would prove a pretty picture.

"Tye, my friend. I'm going to buy you a
drink." Buddy leaned on him and he got a good whiff of his
breath.

"You need to slow down there, Buddy. How many
have you downed already? It's barely happy hour."

"I can still see one of you, so I'd say not
enough."

Tye glanced over his friend's shoulder. Jolie
said something to her girlfriend at the bar then slipped toward the
back where the pool tables and the restrooms were located. "Listen,
Buddy. I'll catch you in a few. Why don't you ask one of the gals
here tonight to dance?"

"Don't mind if I do. Don't mind at all." One
of Dierks Bentley's songs played over the speakers as Buddy
sauntered over to a table of giggling women.

Tye headed to the bar and leaned against the
counter, thinking he'd wait for Jolie to return then make his move.
What that move would entail, he wasn't quite sure yet, but he would
think of something. Jolie's friend turned in her seat and did
nothing to hide she was checking him out as she leaned against the
bar. He flashed her a smile. Not a bad looking woman, but she wore
too much dark eyeliner.

"Well, sugar, aren't you just the best
eye-candy ever," Jolie's friend drawled.

Definitely not a shy one. "Hello, I'm Tye,
and you are…?"

"Your dance partner, honey."

Before he could say no, thank you, she took
hold of his hand and dragged him onto the dance floor. "You with
the rodeo?" she asked as her arms came to rest on his shoulders.
She was making herself quite comfortable with his body. Any other
time he might have welcomed the advances, but now wasn't one of
those times, not when he wanted to capture another woman's eye.

"Yep." He glanced toward the bar, hoping
Jolie would return soon.

"Ride broncs, I suppose? Big strapping man
like yourself." She pinched his biceps as if she were looking for a
ripe cantaloupe."

He chuckled. "Bull riding is my event."

Her gaze met his. "Is that so? My, my...
What's your name again, cowboy?"

"Tye Casper."

Her eyes grew wide. "The Ghost Rider? That
Tye Casper?"

"The one and the same." She surprised him. He
hadn't thought she'd be one to follow the circuit.

Her brows drew together. "A storm's brewing…
" her low murmur sounded like a dire prediction and made him
frown.

"The weatherman didn't say anything about a
storm." But then, this was Texas. It could be blistering hot and
the thunder would rumble with the threat of rain.

"What does the weatherman know anyhow?" she
snapped. "Let me see your hand." Not that she waited for him to
comply. Her feet halted, bringing their dance to an abrupt stop.
Her fingers clasped onto his hand, and she turned it palm up for
inspection as her eyes squinted in concentration. "Just what I
thought."

"You reading my palm or something?" Tye asked
with a chuckle. If this was some kind of new come-on, he had to
give the gal points for originality.

"You're a quick one, aren't you?" she said
with annoyance. "Hmm," she murmured again.

He looked at his palm. They were calloused,
but at least they were clean. "That bad, huh?"

"The worse kind, bucko." Her gaze met his and
she poked him in the chest.

"Ow." He stepped back. "What was that for?"
His grin fell as she came after him. Her eyes all but threw daggers
as she continued to poke him in the chest.

"Just 'cause I didn't grow up around here, it
don't mean I haven't heard all about you and your shenanigans." She
backed him into the wall next to the stage. "Did you come to town
to mess with my gal, Jolie Lockhart?"

"Jolie told you about me, did she?" He gave
her a sheepish smile.

"Wipe that silly grin right off your purdy
face. She told me enough to know I want to kick your cute little
behind right out of town."

His eyebrows lifted as he wondered what Jolie
had told this woman. "If it makes it any better, I'm here to set
things right."

"Is that so?" Her eyes narrowed as her gaze
took him in from head to toe and back up again. "I'm a psychic and
I'll know if you're messing with me."

He lifted his hands in surrender. "I wouldn't
mess with a psychic."

Her gaze held his for a second longer. She
must have decided he told the truth because she gave him a curt
nod. "I have my eyes on you." She pointed her finger at him and his
hand flew to his chest to ward off another assault. "You mind your
P's and Q's, Mr. Casper." She whirled on her bright red boots and
stomped back to the bar.

"Will do, ma'am." Tye straightened his shirt
and glanced at Sonny and Mike who could barely keep a lid on their
laughter as they snickered behind their fists, which ended up being
spurts of coughing.

"Do you mind telling me who that was?" He
pointed with his thumb toward the bar.

"Whisper Llewellyn," Sonny offered. "Didn't
you get her name before you went and ticked her off?"

He didn't offer a response to his question.
"Whisper? She's more like a roaring din."

"Well, she blew into town about nine years
ago," Mike said, "when Jolie still hoped you'd return for her. You
done broke that woman's heart and Whisper picked up the pieces. She
works with Jolie at
Trinkets Galore
over on Main Street.
You're lucky Whisper didn't turn you into a toad. She's a witch or
somethin' of the sort."

"Psychic," he corrected.

"Ain't that the same thing?" Mike asked
looking at Sonny then to him.

Heck if Tye knew the answer, but right now he
didn't care. He spotted Jolie back at the bar, ordering a drink
from Stan, the bartender. He made a beeline over there before
someone else nabbed him with the intent to do bodily harm or
anything else for that matter.

He saddled up beside Jolie, but she hadn't
spotted him yet since she faced Whisper. Her throaty laugh reached
his ears as she chuckled about something Whisper said to her. He
guessed Whisper hadn't given away he was back in town—not yet,
anyway. He couldn't hear the conversation over his thundering
heartbeat that vibrated in his ears.

"Hello, Jolie," he spit out, before he lost
his courage and before Whisper
out-ed
him.

Jolie's whole body stilled and she sat up
ramrod straight before she slowly turned in her seat. Her smile
slid from her face, her features revealing every emotion from
surprise to loathing in two seconds flat. He planned to start with
an apology, but she didn't appear to be in the mood to forgive him
anytime soon, and if her gaze could be registered as a deadly
weapon, it should be, 'cause that look was surely meant to slay
him.

"Can we talk, Jolie?" he asked instead.

She opened her mouth, but no more than a
squeak came out. She flew to her feet and faced the bar as she
leaned on it. Either she was on the verge of being ill or she
needed to hold up the bar for some reason. Her knuckles turned
white from the death grip.

"Jolie?" He placed a hand on her arm.

"If you want to keep that appendage, cowboy,"
her voice rumbled with the warning, "you'll remove it from my arm
this instant."

Being fond of his limbs, he withdrew his hand
as if her skin turned into molten lava.

Her gaze riveted to his, pinning him down
with lethal intent once more, but did he heed the warning? Of
course not. "God, you're beautiful," slipped out before he could
clamp his mouth shut, but he spoke the truth. Even spitfire-mad, no
woman looked as pretty as Jolie Lockhart.

"Are you trying to butter me up with
niceties?" Her voice rose in disbelief.

"It depends. Is it working?"

"No. Where the hell have you been? And don't
tell me you've been doing the rodeo circuit. I already know that
part of the story. Where have you been in the down times? Huh? Now
you want to talk. Did you expect to blow into town after ten long
years and pick up where we left off?"