Rodeo Daddy. B.J. Daniels
Please be careful.”
“Always.” He kissed his sister on the forehead, then Elizabeth. “You just take care of my niece and don’t worry.” But he could tell that would be hard for her. It was another reason he had to find Sebastian. And soon.
* * *
IT WASN’T UNTIL the next evening that Dylan called. Chelsea had been waiting anxiously by the phone. Cody had cleared out of the house and was back in his distant, uncommunicative mood. Her attempts at conversation with him only elicited grunts until she’d finally just given up.
It broke her heart to lose him again. She could only hope he’d come around, because now that she’d gone this far, she wasn’t turning back.
“Chelsea?” The sound of Dylan’s voice made her heart begin to pound.
“You found Jack?” she whispered.
“He doesn’t go by Jack Shane anymore,” Dylan said. “He calls himself Jackson Robinson.”
Why did that name sound familiar?
“He’s a bull rider on the pro rodeo circuit,” Dylan continued. “Shuns publicity but has made a name for himself by winning more than a few titles.”
“You’re sure it’s Jack?” she asked, surprised the man she’d known would be riding bulls. Even more surprised he’d changed his name. But then according to Cody, she didn’t know the man at all, and ten years ago he would have had good reason to try to drop out of sight.
“Unless someone else is using his social security number it’s the Jack Shane who worked for your ranch ten years ago,” Dylan said.
“Where can I find him?” she asked, more determined than ever to see if this Jackson Robinson was really her Jack.
“Hold on, now,” Dylan said. “I’ve just started digging. I would strongly advise you to wait until I get more information on this guy before you confront him.”
She couldn’t bear the thought of waiting any longer. “Is he in Texas?”
“Yes.”
She took a breath. “Is he...married?”
“I have no idea. Given more time—”
“Where is he in Texas?” she asked, determined to get her own answers—and quickly. “Dylan, I need to see him. Now.”
“Cody will have my hide for this,” Dylan said.
“You’ve always been able to hold your own with Cody,” she returned. “Where, Dylan? You can’t talk me out of this any more than Cody did, and believe me, he tried.”
“I’m sure he did,” Dylan said with a groan. “Jackson Robinson is riding in Lubbock tomorrow night.”
Lubbock, Texas. That was only a day’s drive away.
“That’s perfect. Thanks, Dylan. You don’t know what this means to me.” She started to hang up.
“Chelsea, don’t get your hopes up too high.”
Too late for that.
“Why don’t you take Cody with you?” Dylan suggested.
“Cody?” He had to be kidding. “I think not. Anyway, he has a ranch to run. I’ll be fine. Really.” She didn’t need her big brother protecting her.
She hung up, her heart pounding. As impulsive as she’d always been, even she was shocked by what she planned to do. She was going to see Jack. Jackson. Whatever he called himself these days. She told herself that she’d know the truth the moment she looked into his dark eyes.
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN SHE GOT UP the next morning to leave, Cody was already gone. She loaded her bag into her car, scribbled a goodbye to her brother with the promise to call, and left.
The night before she’d packed hurriedly, shaking with just the thought of seeing Jack again. Maybe Dylan and Cody were right. Maybe this man did have some power over her. He’d certainly stayed in her thoughts all these years. And in her heart.
She hadn’t known what to pack or for how long. A few days max. What should she wear? What any Texas-born cowgirl wore to a rodeo—jeans and boots.
But she threw in her favorite blue silk dress for good measure, just in case.
Just in case what? What did she hope was going to happen? She tried not to go there.
She’d just closed the bag when she heard a sound behind here.
“So you’re really going to do this,” Cody said from the doorway.
He no longer appeared angry, just concerned. She nodded.
“Could you at least tell me where you’re going?” he asked.
“Lubbock. He’s riding bulls with the rodeo circuit.”
Cody nodded. He’d ridden a few bulls himself, and a few broncs.
She hadn’t really wanted to tell him that Jack had changed his name, afraid Cody would only see it as more evidence of his guilt. “He’s riding as Jackson Robinson.”
“Is he?”
“Have you heard of him?” she’d asked, seeing something in her brother’s look that worried her.
He hadn’t answered. “You realize you might be the last person he wants to see.”
She refused to even consider that possibility.
Cody had stood in the doorway for a moment. “I know better than to try to talk you out of this fool behavior.”
“That’s good,” she’d agreed.
“Could you at least call and let me know you’re not dead on the highway?”
“What good would calling do? You’ll be out mending fence or chasing down some stray calf, acting like you work around here.” He didn’t seem to appreciate her sense of humor. But then he never had.
“I’ll take the cell phone with me,” he’d said after a moment. He’d made a disgusted face and looked even more put out with her. Cody hated cell phones and refused to carry the one she’d bought him.
“Then I’ll call,” she’d promised, and smiled. “Wish me luck?”
“You’re going to need more than luck, little sister.”
Last night she’d felt confident, but now that she was on the road, she was less sure of herself. What if she was wrong about Jack? What if he didn’t want to see her? Or worse, what if he admitted he’d never cared, that he’d only been after her cattle—and her ranch?
That thought almost made her turn around. Almost.
She remembered the day Jack had arrived in an old red pickup, rattling up the road in a cloud of Texas dust, looking for a job. He’d climbed out of the truck. Even at twenty-two he looked solid, as if he’d done a lot of manual labor. Had it been love at first sight? She’d always thought so.
A terrible thought struck her. What if Jack thought she’d known about the check?
She drove past San Antonio, took Highway 10 and headed west. At Sonora, she’d angle up 87 and on into Lubbock. She figured she’d be there before Jack rode.
Turning up the music, she put the top down on the Mercedes her father had given her for her twenty-fifth birthday. But she couldn’t quit thinking about Jack. Or worrying that she might be wrong about him.
* * *
AFTER GETTING CAUGHT in road construction for hours, Chelsea was late reaching Lubbock, and suddenly, she wasn’t so sure this was a good idea. She was twenty-eight, no longer a kid. And yet she was still chasing rainbows.