A Rodeo Man's Promise

“For what?”

“For calling me a man.” Twenty-five was considered young in many minds; but, at every age, Riley’s parents had demanded a level of maturity far beyond his years. In truth, he felt a lot older than twenty-five.

“Cruz prefers to use his muscle over his brain. He’s stubborn and bullheaded.”

“The kid has the makings of a good rodeo cowboy.”

“His father rode bulls before he—”

“Cruz’s father was T. C. Rivera?”

“Yes.”

Riley had heard stories about Rivera. The man had taken the rodeo circuit by storm when Riley had been in high school. But T.C. had thrown away his chance at a world title when he’d gotten into a brawl in South Dakota and killed a man. “Where’s T.C. now?”

“South Dakota State Penitentiary in Sioux Falls.”

“Was he close to Cruz?”

“Yes. Cruz is his eldest child. T.C. and Juanita have…had four children.”

“What do you mean had?”

“Cruz’s younger brother by one year was the victim of gang violence.”

“Shot to death?”

“A few months ago. He’d been sitting on his front porch with Cruz when a fight broke out between two gangs and shots were fired. A stray bullet caught him in the chest.”

Unable to imagine witnessing a sibling’s death in such a violent manner, Riley suspected Cruz’s tough-act demeanor was a facade hiding a hurt and angry young man. “Does Cruz ever visit his father?”

“No. Juanita doesn’t have a car and she can’t waste hard-earned money on bus fare to take the kids to South Dakota.”

“How long is T.C.’s sentence?”

“He won’t be eligible for parole for another twenty years.”

Cruz would be close to forty when his father left prison. Steering the conversation back to Maria, Riley asked, “What do you do when you’re not chasing after delinquent kids?” He really wanted to ask if there was a man in her life.

“Nothing as exciting as flying airplanes or busting broncs.”

“Have you flown before?”

“I’ve never been on a plane.”

“Bet you’d enjoy the experience.”

“Why would you think that?”

He shrugged. “You’re a thrill seeker.”

“Hardly.”

“Sure you are. Your job is one big thrill. You have no idea what you’re going to face when you roll out of bed each morning.” She didn’t refute his charge. “Any brothers, sisters, nieces or nephews?” A significant other?

“Afraid not.”

“I have one sister,” Riley said. “Bree’s twenty-eight.”

“What does she do for a living?”

“Manages the horse stables at the farm.”

“Stables?”

“The Fitzpatricks breed racing horses.”

“What kind of racing horses?”

“The Kentucky Derby kind.”

Maria’s fork clanked against the side of her plate.

Depending on their personal agenda, this is where women either pushed Riley away or attempted to get closer. “Our family’s been involved in horse racing for generations.”

“That explains the plane, but not the rodeo.”

Before Riley had a chance to speak, the waitress appeared with dessert. “What are they?” he asked.

“Polvorones. Almond cookies,” Maria said.

Riley sampled one. “They melt in your mouth.” He helped himself to a second cookie. “When I was in eleventh grade I had the chance to attend the Lyle Sankey Rodeo School—he’s a famous rodeo cowboy. I got hooked on the sport.” He chuckled. “My father has since regretted giving me that birthday gift.”

Maria smiled and Riley’s eyes were drawn to her full lips and enticing dimples. “You have a beautiful mouth.”

“Good grief, stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Flirting.”

“How old are you?”

“You’re not supposed to ask a woman her age.”

“Why not? Is your age a big secret?”

She scrunched her nose. “I’m thirty-five.”