“Brought you some good luck.” Buck tossed a bundle wrapped in brown paper at him and walked away.
“What’s this?” Bullet shouted after him, but Buck didn’t answer. He jumped down and went around the corner to open the heavy package. Inside, he found a pair of chaps. Buck gave him a new pair of chaps? What the hell? He didn’t get it, but when he turned them over, he saw the tag. McCullough Cowboy. Tristan. He ran back over to the rail and looked at all four boxes Flying R had reserved. If she was here, she’d probably be sitting with Liv. He didn’t see either one of them.
“Lookin’ for somebody, cowboy?”
Bullet turned and looked in the prettiest eyes he’d seen in weeks. “Sure am, darlin’.”
“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not your darlin’?”
“How many times do I have to tell you that you are?”
“I shouldn’t be back here.”
“I don’t give a shit.” Bullet picked her up and spun her in a circle, right before he covered her mouth with his. “God damn, I missed you, girl.”
“Better watch your language around my daughter, cowboy.” When the man came around the corner, Bullet set Tristan back on the ground. “Hello, sir. I’m Bullet Simmons.”
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Hugh McCullough, and Tristan’s daddy.” The man shook Bullet’s hand and winked at him.
Bullet looked him up and down. “Dang, you’re lookin’ pretty good for a guy who just had heart surgery. I don’t know how you looked before, but…”
“Thanks,” Mr. McCullough answered. “But it wasn’t exactly just. I’ve been on the mend for a couple of months. Thought it was about time I let this one out of her nursing duties.”
Tristan smiled.
“What are you doin’ here?” he asked Tristan, hoping her daddy wouldn’t overhear him.
“I missed you too, Bullet. Ready, Daddy?” With that, she put her arm through her father’s and the two walked in the direction of the Flying R boxes.
“Do me proud since you?
?re the first bull rider wearin’ McCullough Cowboy chaps,” she shouted over her shoulder.
Bullet had to bend over, put his hands on his knees, and take a deep breath. Was he dreaming? He’d certainly dreamed about seeing Tristan again often enough. Buck Bishop? The chaps? Had to be a dream. Maybe he could keep it going and dream he covered his bull tonight too.
Tristan couldn’t believe she was finally back in Colorado. It felt so good to be with her Flying R family. That’s the way she thought of them—her family.
When Lyric called and invited her to their grandmother’s ProRodeo Hall of Fame induction, Tristan said yes without giving herself time to think about it.
When Liv called back, a few minutes later, and told her they were making a week of it by having all the partners meet during opening night of the Pikes Peak or Bust Rodeo, she agreed to that too.
She also asked if she could bring her father and grandfather along, who, of course, were welcome. She hadn’t asked them yet, but there wasn’t any reason her father couldn’t travel. He’d been cleared to do most anything since he’d successfully gotten through rehab.
Tristan had talked about little other than the Flying R partners and the cast of characters that surrounded the rough stockers. Her father had said, at one point, that the next time she got together with them, he wanted to go along and meet this infamous group in person. This would be the perfect opportunity.
When she asked him if he wanted to go, she dangled another carrot. “I heard that Mark Cochran, Nate Simmons, and Ben Rice are performing at the party following the PRCA Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony.
A few weeks ago, she’d found him on the treadmill, listening to blaring rock music. When she turned it down and asked him who the band was, he was dumbfounded. “You talk about these guys all the time. You don’t recognize Cochran’s and Satin’s music when you hear it?”
Tristan and her grandfather, who had come in behind her, raised their eyebrows.
“I used to listen to Cochran and Satin all the time.”
“Wanna try again and tell me the truth this time,” she teased.
“What? I did. Every time I could, I’d change the radio station from country music to rock. And then, as soon as I’d see Gramps headin’ toward the barn, I’d change it back.”
Tristan had spent the last couple of months assisting her father with his recovery and working, every chance she could, on the first pieces of her new collection. She hoped it would be ready for a fall release.