Tina Leonard - Triplets' Rodeo Man (14 page)

“What do you mean, Jack's entered the Lonely Hearts Station rodeo?” Josiah demanded, staring at his three sons who'd come to visit him. He felt fine, he was tired of everybody coddling him, and he could tell by the expression on Gabe's, Dane's and Pete's faces that they'd debated the wisdom of telling him.
They didn't want to upset me
, Josiah thought to himself, annoyed that everybody seemed to think he needed protection from the bumps and bruises of life. “Tell me everything and quit holding out on me.”

Pete sighed. “He entered. He rides tomorrow.”

Josiah's eyes bugged. “He didn't tell you, did he?”

“No.” Gabe shook his head. “We found out about it completely by accident. I saw Mimi and Mason Jefferson in town and they mentioned it.” He shrugged. “My best guess is that Jack doesn't want us to know. Doesn't feel he needs a cheering section.”

“Hell's bells,” Josiah said. “You can bet Cricket doesn't know, either. She would have mentioned it to Priscilla, at least.”

Dane nodded. “That's a pretty safe assumption.”

“So why's he doing it? The rascal!” Josiah shook his head. “His babies are only two weeks old! He needs to stay home with Cricket and the children. He can't spend his life on the road anymore.” Josiah's white brows quivered above suddenly bright eyes. “There better be a durn good reason.”

“A million dollars,” Pete said, and Josiah blinked.

“All he has to do for that is live at the ranch for a year. Same deal you boys got.”

“Yeah,” Gabe said, “but Jack's always done things his way.”

Josiah sniffed. “He should be at home helping Cricket, not running after a fool's dream that may only net him some broken bones.”

Dane shrugged. “Don't think he wants our opinions or he would have told us and we wouldn't have heard about it through the grapevine.”

“True,” Josiah said, reaching for one of Pete's small babies when it started to cry. He held the child against his chest, looked at Sara. “I'm sure you have a pearl of wisdom to toss out here.”

“No,” Sara said, lifting the crust on a cherry pie. “This is done to a turn. Who wants a piece?”

“I do,” the four men said, and Sara laughed.

“Good.” She started to cut the pie, noticed the frown on Josiah's face. “Whipped cream on top?” she asked.

“I trust you for your honesty,” Josiah said, and Sara sighed.

“Once upon a time you asked me what you should
do if Jack were to give you his kidney and then still want to ride rodeo. I said that you should go watch him. After all, you'd be well, and this is Jack being Jack. Why waste time keeping distance?” She handed out plates to appreciative men. “Life is short. I say we all go, and we all applaud, no matter the outcome.”

“What if Cricket doesn't know?” Josiah asked gruffly. “Won't it seem as if we withheld information from her?”

“That's not my affair,” Sara said. “Nor is it yours. All we can do is support Jack in his efforts. For all you know, he wants to win that million dollars so he can tell you he's moving to Fort Wylie.”

“That's what I'm afraid of! He just wants to tell me to shove off!” Josiah exclaimed, and Sara dropped a kiss on his forehead.

“I know, you old fussbudget,” she said fondly. “This time, you're going to have to tough it out. You can't control your kids anymore—this one may earn his way right out of your control and into Cricket's world.”

“I'll pick out my clothes for tomorrow,” Josiah said. “let's at least caravan out there and show that the Morgans are backing one of their own. I swear, I may need a new ticker if Jack gets stomped.”

“You'll need a new ticker if you keep eating this pie,” Pete said appreciatively. “Sara, you should enter this pie in the state fair.”

Josiah sighed to himself and kept his fretting silent. All the money in the world couldn't tame Jack. His eldest son was going to do things
his
way—he always had—and this time, Josiah was going to show him how proud he was.

 

C
RICKET WAS WORRIED
about Jack. She knew enough about her man to know that he was quiet. Too quiet. It wasn't just that he was tired from helping her with the babies. He was a huge help—even her mother had commented on how devoted Jack was to making sure she and the babies had everything they needed. Her heart had been warmed by her mother's slow-won approval.

She wondered if he regretted making love to her, then knew she was being silly, suffering some type of postpartum blues. Jack had never once complained. In fact, he seemed to adore the babies. One day she'd gotten up, surprised by how rested she felt and walked out to the den to find all three infants sleeping on a nice soft pallet, their father asleep not two feet away on the sofa.

Now that she was formula-feeding—she hadn't had much luck with breast-feeding, though Jack had been endlessly encouraging—he'd taken over the making of the bottles with relentless precision. He made notes about each baby's feeding in a notebook. And diapering, he said, was no different than roping—you just had to be fast while the little buggers did their best to get away.

That had made her laugh.

But for the past two days, Jack had been so preoccupied that she was beginning to get nervous. Probably he needed a break from the schedule of three newborns. “No doubt Jack must feel housebound,” she confided to Thad when he came over to visit one afternoon.

“Absolutely,” Thad said. “I'd be going stir-crazy.”

“I know I am,” Cricket said, and Thad looked at her.

“Take a jump,” he suggested.

“I would love to,” she murmured, knowing full well what Jack's response to that would be.

“A couples jump is good for closeness,” Thad said, and Cricket's heart leaped inside her.

It would be wonderful. That's exactly what they needed. But Jack would never agree. “I don't think he'd go for it.”

“Maybe not right away,” Thad said. “It may take a little more time to get used to the idea. He'll come around.”

“Maybe,” she said, not sure about that.

“I'm a little surprised you're not at the rodeo,” Thad said. “I actually came over to see if you needed a babysitter.”

She looked at Thad. “Babysitter? You?”

He shrugged. “You don't think I can take care of my nieces and nephew?”

“Well, I—what rodeo?”

“The Lonely Hearts Station rodeo.”

She shook her head. “Why would I?”

“You went last year,” Thad pointed out. “And the father of your children is a bull rider, right? I just thought it made sense that you would.”

“Oh.” Cricket slowly got up to rearrange some toys. Some days her stitches still hurt. Her body didn't feel quite itself just yet, but she was secretly delighted with her progress. She'd lost a healthy amount of weight and felt good. Jack had helped with that. Every once in a while, when he thought she didn't know he was doing
it, she'd catch him checking out her legs or her breasts. In general, he seemed to keep his gaze on her often, which made her feel attractive. “Jack hadn't mentioned he wanted to go this year.”

Thad didn't reply. Cricket had assumed Jack had gone to visit his father today—when he'd left the house, he'd merely said he'd be back later tonight. She glanced over at her brother, hesitating as she saw him watching her, his face concerned. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

“Something,”
she said, an old routine between them. “Something's on your mind.”

“Not so much. Just these little babies,” he said, getting down on the floor to watch them as they lay on the thick pallet Jack had fixed for them.

Cricket liked the pallet better than the bassinet because the babies seemed to like lying together, cuddled up next to each other. They looked like peas in a pod, and she had taken tons of pictures of them.
Angels
, she thought.
These babies are angels
.
Funny how Josiah thought he had ghosts at the ranch house.
And then it hit her.

“Jack's riding today, isn't he?” she demanded.

Thad cleared his throat.

“Thad!” she exclaimed, sensing her brother's reluctance to be the bearer of bad news.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Don't make me be the rat fink.”

She was going to kill both the men in her life, her brother because he was being a wienie, and Jack for not
telling her about his plans. Of course, she wasn't his wife, he could do as he pleased, but…“I don't understand why he didn't tell me.”

“Fear of failure.” Thad shook a rattle for the babies, who seemed more interested in their toes. “Fear of disappointing you? I don't know.”

“Why are men so complex?” Cricket demanded.
Particularly mine?

“Fears,” Thad said. “Men have a lot of them.”

“Oh, baloney. I spent years counseling couples and I never—” Cricket paused, thinking about all the couples she'd talked to, learning their private stories. Usually, couples felt that their partner wasn't listening to them, and that lay at the root of their problems. It was all about miscommunication, and clearly she and Jack were also misfiring on that front. “I changed for him,” she said, “he didn't change for me.”

Thad blinked. “That doesn't sound right, but I can't quite put my finger on the improper logic.”

“Probably not.” Cricket took a deep breath. “But he just can't decide he's going to slip off without telling me.”

“Wait,” Thad said. “Rodeo is how the man makes a living, isn't it? Do you think he just went to work, like any other man would? Jack probably didn't think it was earth-shattering news that he was going to try to make a buck.”

“Why are you taking his side?” Cricket asked.

“I'm not. I'm trying to dig my way out of trouble. I
don't like to cause trouble,” Thad said, “and I don't want Jack to think I'm a weasel for telling on him.”

“I gave up jumping because of him,” Cricket said, starting to steam, “and he had no intention of giving up rodeo!”

“Wait,” Thad said, holding up the rattle. “You didn't give up parachuting because of the cowboy. You were pregnant, Cricket! Be reasonable.”

She was trying to be. But she was hurt Jack wouldn't confide in her. She'd been worrying about him feeling tied down when obviously he was just going on with his life, while she…she had decided to give up an activity she loved, knowing he didn't want her doing it.

“Have you guys talked about this giving-up thing?” Thad asked.

Cricket shook her head.

“Well, I wouldn't get myself in a knot, then.”

Cricket knew her brother was right. “I'll take you up on that babysitting offer.”

He looked at her. “I'm happy to do it, but do you think this is wise? Are you cleared to drive yet? Maybe you should just talk to him when he gets home.”

“I want to see Jack ride,” Cricket said.

“For support?”

She wasn't sure. But this was who Jack was, and Cricket knew that. Rodeo was so much a part of him that even Josiah hadn't been able to threaten, bluster or buy it out of Jack's life. “Not just support,” Cricket said, “but because I'm not going to live the next fifty years of my
life with a man who's afraid to tell me what he loves in life.”

“Okay,” Thad said, “that sounds healthy.”

She intended for their relationship to be very healthy. “And schedule a jump for me,” Cricket said, “one month from today.”

“Shouldn't you talk to Jack first?”

Cricket headed to her room to change. “You just worry about being Uncle Thad today and put away your counselor's hat.” The truth was, she wasn't sure what to tell Jack. All she knew was that this rodeo was a defining moment in their relationship. She planned to make certain she and Jack didn't repeat history, drifting apart like Gisella and Josiah had when their marriage was young. She and Jack weren't even married, and that put them on shakier ground even than Gisella and Josiah's relationship had been.

She kissed each baby on the head and went out the door, anxious to catch Jack before he rode. Who knew what could happen?

Cricket remembered the first time she'd ever seen Jack on the back of a thrashing bull—she remembered because that's when she'd fallen in love with him. It had been love at first sight. She'd known it; there'd been no escaping her unruly heart's longings for the cowboy.

This time was no different. She got to the rodeo just in time to see Jack's first ride, her breath nearly stopping in her chest as she watched him stick to the back of the bull the best he could. Arm held up high above his head trying for more points, Jack made it to the buzzer before being thrown to the ground.

She gasped, and knew better than to dash to the rail to check on him. In fact, she didn't want him to know she was there at all.

There was no point in making him nervous or unhappy, taking his mind off of his ride. She wanted him to do whatever it was he had set out to do.

She seated herself high up in the stands, away from where anyone she knew might see her. Jack's scores
were announced and she proudly noted he had earned a respectable score. Surely he'd be pleased with that.

But she knew he wouldn't be completely pleased unless he won.

“Got a sweetie riding?” a nearby middle-aged woman asked her. She threw some peanut shells down and smiled warmly at Cricket.

“Um, just a friend,” Cricket said. “You?”

“A son.” The woman's smile turned a little rueful. “You know how it goes. Rodeo gets into their blood at a young age.”

Cricket swallowed, thinking about her own baby boy. In six years or less, he'd be old enough for snatching the bow off the calf's tail games. Jack would probably want to buy him a tiny pony to practice riding on—of course he would. One step always led to another—

“I don't think he's got a shot at the million,” her seatmate said. “There's too many cowboys in there with a lot more experience. Still, I'm hoping he does all right.”

Cricket's blood went cold. “I'm sorry. What do you mean, a million?”

Her new friend's penciled brows nearly reached her hairline. She tossed down a few more peanut shells, munching happily. “The million-dollar purse,” she said. “Guess anybody could use that much good luck, huh?”

Cricket's breath caught. Now she knew exactly why Jack was riding. It wasn't because he couldn't be tamed. She had said she wouldn't move to the Morgan ranch.
Jack had always said he wanted to be with her and the children. He fully intended to stay forever at her tea-shop home. A million dollars would replace the money he would give up by not fulfilling his father's wishes. And contrary to what she'd told his father when he was in the hospital, Jack had ridden very well at the last rodeo here. He had to figure his chances were just as good as the next cowboy's. Sudden anxious nerves assailed her. There was probably nothing worse to start out a relationship on than making someone feel that they had to change everything in their life because of you. Thad was right—Jack had made lots of changes for her. And lots of sacrifices. “Yes,” she murmured, “anyone could use that much good luck.”

She stood, giving the woman a smile. “Best of luck to you.”

“You're not staying?”

Cricket shook her head. “I saw what I came to see.”

She left, slipping out so that no one would be the wiser to her presence. She got into her vintage VW and drove home, saying a silent prayer that Jack's every ride would be safe and long.

But mostly safe.

 

J
ACK WAS HAPPY
with his first ride, but the key was making all his rides good ones. He'd felt a strange pop in his knee as he'd landed on the ground and could tell his knee was aggravated, enough to swell a bit. When the round of rides finished, he checked the scores, seeing that he was in third place going into the next
round tomorrow. Good enough. He had a chance. A million dollars was enough money to keep him in the game. He thought about Cricket and his tiny, fairly bald, sweeter-than-he-thought-they'd-be children, and knew he had to ride on.

He went to secretly ice his knee.

 

“T
HAT WAS PRETTY GOOD
,” Josiah said reluctantly. “But I still wish he'd just live at the ranch, Gisella.”

Gisella and Sara smiled at him. Josiah shrugged. “Okay, I'm proud. He's a little bit better of a rider than I expected him to be.”

Pete, Dane and Gabe looked at each other. Laura, Priscilla and Suzy had stayed home to watch the children, deciding to make a barbecue celebration for everyone when they returned.

“I thought he got up a bit slow,” Pete commented.

“I did, too,” Dane agreed.

“I thought Jack was just staying low, trying to see which way the bull was going to go,” Gabe said, waving at his brothers to be quiet around Josiah.

Josiah turned his head to stare at his sons seated behind him. “What are you boys talking about?”

“Nothing, Pop,” Pete said.

“I didn't see anything slow,” Josiah said, “except maybe that clown.”

“Yeah,” Gabe said. “It's fine, Pop. No worries.”

Josiah sniffed and turned back around. “You boys would know better than me what Jack normally looks like on a ride. But I thought he looked good.”

“Had a new sponsor, too,” Pete said.

“Probably got that because he's the rider with the most children,” Gabe said, and they laughed.

“That's not funny,” Josiah said. “You boys are too hard on your brother.”

“We're just picking at you, Pop,” Dane told him. “We can see your hair turning whiter by the second.”

Josiah sighed. “You see how they treat me, ladies. I suffer.”

Sara patted his arm. Gisella handed him some popcorn. They watched the next round begin and Josiah wondered how much stress one father could take. He, too, had seen Jack get up slow, and he was nervous. In fact, it was his worst nightmare. Jack wouldn't turn in his number over a little bump or bruise—or much else, either. Not with him sitting within a shot of the big prize. Josiah held in a groan and tried to focus on the fact that he was supposed to be having a great time sitting around with his family, watching Jack do what he loved, something he'd never been able to do before. He was a father, and sometimes, being a father was a really tough job. “Well, show's over for us for today,” he said. “Let's head home and eat some barbecue. Tomorrow's a big day, and I want to be back bright and early.”

 

C
RICKET HAD JUST PUT
the triplets down for their three-hour nighttime nap—they weren't sleeping through the night, nowhere close, of course—when Jack walked in. Limped in, she realized.

She didn't ask him about his injury. If he wanted to talk about it, he would.

“Hey,” he said to her.

“Hi to you, too.”

“How are the babies?”

She smiled. “They had a big day. They were a little hard to get down, but they're sleeping now.”

He limped over to the sofa. She bit her lip, wanting desperately to ask him, knowing he wasn't about to share. He was so much like Josiah, after all.

“Can I help you get your boots off?”

He shook his head. “I got it. Thanks.”

She watched him struggle with his boots, then turned away. Tea was what she did best, she decided, tea and prayer. “I was just about to make a nice soothing cup of tea. Can I get you one? And maybe some chocolate cookies? I like chocolate cookies when I'm not…I mean, at night.”

He glanced at her. “Cricket, you don't have to wait on me. I'm living here to help you with the children. So how about you sit down, and I'll make the tea and cookies?” Getting up, he took her hand, gently guiding her toward the place where he'd been seated. “Tea and chocolate. I can handle that.”

She closed her eyes as she sat, listening to him rifle through the kitchen. He was stubborn—had she ever realized how much?—and the best thing she could do was let him be himself. It hurt; she desperately wanted to take care of him. But by opposing his livelihood, she had put a distance between them that only time would
breach. Casting about for a safe subject, she finally said, “I got an offer from a church today. It was on my message machine when I got home.”

He set tea and cookies in front of her, like an offering from a prince. “Congratulations. I'd like to hear all about that after you tell me where you went today.”

She'd slipped. Jack's eyes were on her, intent and interested. She could fib, but she wasn't going to. He would find out soon enough. “I went to watch you ride.”

The tea cooled between them, the cookies sat untouched. Cricket had no appetite.

“I should have told you,” Jack finally said, leaning into the seat across from her. “And may I just make the observation that you're not supposed to be driving yet.”

“We should tell each other a lot of things,” Cricket said. “Later on. When we have time. Right now, why don't you let me cut those jeans off of you and see what we can do about your knee.”

He sighed. “I would actually appreciate that.”

She carefully cut off his jeans, iced his knee with a bag of frozen peas and elevated it, grateful when he fell asleep on the sofa.

He looked exhausted.
This is what I signed on for when I fell for Jack Morgan,
she thought, gazing at him, dark and tired and incredibly handsome on her flowered sofa.
Thank God he came home to me and the children tonight.

This was the starting point for everything to come, she decided. If Jack was going to be a road warrior, then
she wanted him to know that he was always welcome to come back home to her.

Having him in her life was worth the agony of separation, worry, loneliness. Yes, Jack Morgan was worth it.