Free The Bull Rider’s Keeper by Lynn Cahoon Page B

groaned. “I’m going to have to buy all new pants. I think I just gained ten pounds while sitting here.”
    Maggie came by the table to clear the plates. “That’s the best compliment we’ve had in years. I’ll tell Duke you enjoyed your meal.”
    “Duke?” Taylor cocked her head and watched Maggie.
    Maggie’s eyes were soft as she said, “My husband. He’s our cook.”
    “And an ex-champion bull rider, himself. The man is a legend. The bulls he rode during the day, well, he was the only one who could stay on Satin, ever. They had to retire the bull after Duke retired. The bull riding association didn’t think it would be suitable for someone else to master the bull because of its aging body.” Jesse’s hands flew all over the place when he was excited and telling a story.
    “Wait, the bull’s name was Satin?” Taylor had no clue on the proper names for bulls in the business, but Satin? That sounded like a kitten.
    Jesse laughed. “His black coat was as smooth as silk and riders just slipped off him.”
    “And now Duke cooks here. No wonder you wanted to come me to come with you.” Taylor smiled at Maggie. “Be sure to tell your husband how much I enjoyed dinner.”
    “I’ll tell him you’re here.” Maggie put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “He’ll sure be glad to see you. You heading out to Wyoming this weekend?”
    “Yep. I’ve got three more months I promised Barb I’d ride. Then I’m done for the year. Well, unless I get into the finals. Which would mean I’d have to take one last ride.” Jesse sounded unsure, almost hesitant.
    “It’s for the best. You’ve about used up your lucky-charm points, you realize that, right?” Maggie nodded to the empty glasses. “Why don’t I bring you over a pitcher?”
    “Oh, I think we’re about done,” Taylor said at the same time as Jesse nodded.
    He grinned at her. “We still haven’t ironed out the details of who gets credit for the contract we signed this afternoon.” He stood and spoke to Maggie. “Bring the pitcher over to the dart board. Is my dart case still under the bar?”
    “Of course.” Maggie nodded at Taylor. “I’ll bring you a good set, too. If you have a chance against this guy it won’t be with house darts.” Then she disappeared into the back room.
    “Why do I feel like the two of you are speaking a foreign language? What the heck are house darts?” Taylor followed Jesse deeper into the bar. They stopped in front of three flashing, soft-tip dartboards. On the floor lay a piece of vinyl marking the throw line. Taylor pointed to the neon orange strip. “Where’s the women’s tee?”
    Jesse pressed his lips together, trying to suppress a laugh, but Taylor saw it.
    “What dumb thing did I say now?” Taylor set her purse on the floor next to a table where Jesse had laid out a handful of quarters and his beer glass. She drained her glass and set it on the table as well.
    “You’re thinking about golf. There’s not a shorter throw line for women.” He cocked his head and looked at her. “Unless you’re just playing me? No way you could have gotten out of college without playing one game of darts at a local dive bar.”
    “I don’t know where you went to school, but my college days were filled with hours in the library museum studying the masters.”
    Maggie set a case down on the table for Jesse and handed Taylor a set of heavy darts. In her other hand she held a set of three neon-yellow plastic darts that she held up for Taylor to see.
    “These are house darts.” Maggie handed them to Taylor. “Take one and compare the weight with the others.”
    Taylor felt the light, cheap plastic dart. She looked at Maggie. “So heavier is better?”
    Jesse held out his own darts, and Taylor took one, comparing it to the other two. She glanced up, frowning. He grinned. “It depends on the thrower. My darts are almost as light as house darts, even though they’re titanium.”
    “And pricey as hell,” Maggie added.