“Not a bad idea. But first I want to try his cell again.” Lexie punched in Aaron’s number. As before, the phone rang several times and went to voice mail. After leaving another terse message, she found the number of the motel and made the call.
“Hullo?” A woman with a smoker’s rasping voice answered the ring.
“Is this the Twilight Siesta Motel?”
“Sure is, honey. But we’re full up tonight. Tomorrow, too.” The woman coughed. “Sorry.”
“Wait—this is Lexie Champion. I paid for two rooms online and got confirmation. I was just wondering whether my friend had checked in. Aaron Frye?”
There was a pause. Then the woman came back on. “Good-lookin’ cowpoke? Plaid shirt? White hair?”
“That would be him.” Lexie had never thought of Aaron as good-looking, but a woman close to his own age might see him with different eyes. “I’ve been trying to reach him, and he doesn’t pickup. Has he checked in?”
“Yup. Came in about twenty minutes ago. Said he’d had a few drinks and wanted to sleep ’em off, so not to disturb him.” The woman coughed again. “Haven’t seen him since I gave him the key, but I’m guessin’ he’s out like a light.”
“So he’s all right?”
“Far as I know, honey. Gotta go now. Somebody’s here.”
Lexie ended the call with a sigh. She’d given Aaron leave to go off on his own, and there was nothing wrong with a grown man having a few drinks in a bar before calling it a night. But, blast him, he could at least have answered her call.
“Is everything all right?” Shane asked.
“It seems to be.” Lexie forced a laugh. “I should know better than to try mothering a man old enough to be my father.”
“Your pizza’s gone cold. I can warm you up another slice.”
“Thanks, but don’t bother. I seem to have worried away my appetite.” Lexie slipped off the stool and dropped the phone into her purse. “Anyway, it’s time I walked back to the pens and checked on Whirlwind. He’s like the new kid on the block. I need to make sure he’s settled in.”
“So you mother-hen bulls as well as old men.” Shane chuckled as he rose with her. “How about I walk with you? I could show you around the place, introduce you to a few people—and maybe even a few famous bulls.”
“Thanks, I’d like that,” Lexie answered without hesitation. Shane could teach her a lot about the inner workings of the PBR. And she hadn’t forgotten her promise to Tess—to find out all she could about Brock Tolman and his nefarious schemes.
She would make good use of her time with him.
* * *
Shane ushered Lexie outside and locked the door behind them. He knew why Brock had insisted he drive that damned fancy trailer. The boss had known Lexie would be here, and he was still hoping that she would end up in that cushy king-sized bed, sated, satisfied, and agreeable as hell.
Brock’s offer of a $20,000 bonus on the purchase of the bull had sounded tempting at first. But seducing a woman for money crossed the line—especially when that woman was Lexie. Mr. Tolman could find himself another stud. And when Brock arrived tomorrow, that was just what Shane planned to say to him.
“I meant to tell you if I saw you—” Lexie walked beside him as they crossed the lot, weaving their way among the parked rigs. “I called Cory’s wife after I got home. The news wasn’t good.”
“I know,” Shane said. “I phoned Cory a couple of days ago. He’s being transferred to a rehab facility in Tucson. Not much hope that he’ll ever walk, but he needs to learn how to manage using his upper-body strength. His wife and baby are with her folks in Ajo for now. Evidently, she’s not taking things too well. Neither is Cory. Can’t say I blame either of them.”
“What will they do, Shane? I’ve known Cory most of his life. All he ever wanted was to ride bulls. It’s like there’s no Plan B.” She paused, looking up at him. “What would you do if it happened to you? Have you ever thought about it?”
Shane took a moment to watch the moon, its rim a sliver of gold, rising over the Sandia Mountains. “Getting hurt comes with the job. You know that,” he said. “Every bull rider I know is walking around with scars and broken bones. But the other thing—getting disabled or killed—sure we think about it. But it doesn’t stop us from living. A lot of the guys have families. You’ll see their wives and kids in the stands when they compete. Life becomes more precious when you lay it on the line every week.”
“That sounds like something Jack would have said.”
Shane could sense the tension in her voice. He remembered how she’d seen her brother die in the arena—falling under the bull’s hooves as the bullfighters tried frantically to divert the beast. Shane had been there, too, watching the awful scene from the chutes. Maybe he should have kept his damn fool mouth shut about laying one’s life on the line.
“How about you?” she asked. “Do you have a Plan B? Would you ever give it up and stop competing?”
“Only if there was no way I couldn’t get on a bull anymore. It’s life at a level most people never experience—like riding a lightning bolt across the sky. The sheer terror of it—and the way it feels to face that terror and win—it’s a high that no drug can touch.”
“I know. Jack felt the same way,” Lexie said in a quiet voice. “My dad wanted him to quit and run the ranch. Jack wouldn’t hear of it. He had to have that rush.”