Christmas Baby for the Cowboy (Sweethearts of the Rodeo #4)

Chapter Twenty-One

Taylor

T aylor stared at the dusty arena floor, the roar of the crowd fading into a dull buzz in his ears. Another ride, another disappointment. He’d managed to stay on for eight seconds, but his scores weren’t good enough to place, let alone win a purse.

A month into the rodeo season, and he had nothing to show for it but bruises and a dwindling bank account. Taylor ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair, frustration and disappointment warring within him. He wasn’t a bad rider, far from it. But in this arena, against these competitors, “not bad” just wasn’t cutting it.

“Tough break, Keating,” a voice called out. Taylor looked up to see Finn Laker, one of the top-ranked riders, approaching. “You’re getting better, though. That dismount was almost graceful.”

Taylor managed a wry smile. “Thanks, Finn. You’re up next, right? Good luck out there.”

As Finn nodded and moved on, Taylor felt a pang of envy. Finn had already won two events this season, his name steadily climbing the rankings. Meanwhile, Taylor was barely holding on—literally and figuratively.

He made his way back to the locker room, his body aching from the impact of his fall. As he changed out of his riding gear, Taylor couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut. This wasn’t working. He wasn’t making any money, wasn’t improving fast enough. At this rate, he’d burn through his savings before the season was half over.

The realization hit him like a charging bull. He couldn’t continue like this for the rest of the season. It wasn’t just about him anymore. He had Loretta and Georgie to think about, a family to be present for. The dream of becoming a champion bull rider was slipping through his fingers, replaced by the harsh reality that he was missing pivotal moments with his son and with Loretta.

Taylor slumped onto the bench, his head in his hands. The excitement and determination he’d felt at the start of the season had faded, leaving behind a bitter taste of failure. He’d wanted so badly to prove himself, to make a name for himself outside of his father’s shadow. But now, he’d have to swallow his pride and face the music.

It was an uncomfortable decision, but having made it, he was impatient to get it over with. It was an eternity until his father was done with his act and came back for a break.

“I need to talk to you for a minute,” he said to him, pulling him outside the locker room for some privacy.

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking about my future in the rodeo.”

“Oh?” Barney’s voice was carefully neutral.

Taylor closed his eyes, steeling himself. “I think it might be time for me to go back to bullfighting.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Behind his closed lids, Taylor could almost see his father’s face, the mix of concern and “I told you so” that would be warring in his eyes.

Finally, Barney spoke, his voice tinged with what sounded like regret. “I wish it were that simple.”

Taylor opened his eyes and frowned. “What do you mean?”

Barney sighed heavily. “The thing is, son, there aren’t any job openings right now. The UPRC’s got a full roster of bullfighters for the season.”

Taylor’s stomach dropped. He’d been so focused on making the decision to step back from riding, he hadn’t even considered that there might not be a place for him to step into.

“Oh,” he said, his voice small. “I see.”

“Now, hold on,” Barney said quickly. “I could take it up with the UPRC management. Maybe they could make room—”

“No,” Taylor interrupted, surprising himself with the firmness in his voice. “No, Dad. I appreciate it, but…I can’t do that.”

“Taylor—”

“I mean it, Dad,” Taylor insisted. “I don’t want to get a job because of who my father is. And I sure as hell don’t want someone else to lose their position just so I can have it. That’s not right.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Taylor ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. “I guess I’ll keep riding. Try to get better. It’s all I can do for now.”

“You know I’m here if you need anything. I got to get back out there now.”

“Yup.” Taylor leaned against the wall. He’d been so sure that going back to bullfighting was the answer, the responsible choice. Now, faced with the reality that it wasn’t an option, he felt adrift.

But what choice did he have? He couldn’t just quit and go home empty-handed. He had to keep trying, had to find a way to make money and be successful in this sport.

With renewed determination, albeit tinged with desperation, Taylor headed back to prepare for his next ride. He threw himself into his preparations, checking and rechecking his gear, running through mental exercises to focus his mind.

As he waited for his turn, Taylor watched the other riders. He studied their techniques, the way they moved with the bull, trying to absorb every detail that might give him an edge. When his name was called, he clapped his hands three times, said a quick prayer, and made his way to the chute.

The bull beneath him was massive, its muscles rippling with barely contained energy. Taylor could feel the beast’s power thrumming through him as he settled into position. He nodded, signaling he was ready, and the gate swung open.

The world exploded into a chaos of motion and sound. Taylor gripped tightly with his legs, one hand raised high as he fought to stay centered on the bucking, twisting bull. For a moment, he was in sync with the animal, anticipating its movements, adjusting his body accordingly.

But then, in a second, it all went wrong. The bull made a sharp turn that Taylor didn’t see coming. He listed to the side, his balance thrown off. He struggled to right himself, but it was too late. Before he knew it, he was airborne, the ground rushing up to meet him.

Taylor hit the dirt hard, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He rolled quickly, narrowly avoiding the bull’s hooves as the bullfighters moved in to distract the animal. As he staggered to his feet, he heard the announcer’s voice: “And that’s a ride of 5.8 seconds for Taylor Keating. Tough break, folks.”

Each step back to the locker room was a reminder of his failure, of the dreams slipping through his fingers. He’d barely made it past five seconds. Not even close to the full eight seconds.

As he showered and changed, the full weight of his situation crashed down on him. He wasn’t just failing to win. He was getting worse. The pressure, the constant travel, the separation from his family. It was all taking its toll.

Sitting on the bench, staring at his reflection in the small locker room mirror, Taylor barely recognized himself. The confident, determined man who had set out on this journey a month ago seemed like a stranger. In his place was someone worn down, discouraged, teetering on the edge of giving up.

He thought of Loretta and Georgie back home. Of the apartment they were trying to keep, the future they were trying to build. What kind of provider was he, chasing a dream that was moving further out of reach with each passing day?

Just as the spiral of negative thoughts threatened to overwhelm him, Taylor’s phone buzzed. He reached for it mechanically, half expecting it to be Loretta. Instead, Riley Preston’s flashed on the screen.

“What can I do for you, Riley?” He sure hoped it was another consulting job.

There was a smile in Riley’s voice as she continued. “I’m starting work on a new project, a comprehensive history of rodeo in Texas. It’s a big undertaking, and I need someone with real, hands-on experience to consult. Someone who knows the sport inside and out, from both sides of the arena. Your name was the first that came to mind.”

His battered hopes started to stutter to life. “I’m flattered. What exactly would this job entail?”

“It would be a full-time consulting position,” Riley explained.

Taylor pumped his fist in the air.

“You’d be working with our research team, providing insights, fact-checking, maybe even doing some interviews with rodeo veterans.”

“Is it a steady paycheck?”

There was a brief pause. “Yes.”

“Travel?”

“Some, but not as much or in remote areas like we were in in Mexico.”

Taylor didn’t need time to think it over. In that moment, with the ache of his recent failure still fresh, the answer was crystal clear. “I’m your man.”

“Wonderful! I’m thrilled to have you on board. I’ll have my assistant send over the contract details right away. When can you start?”

“As soon as possible,” Taylor said, already mentally planning his departure from the rodeo circuit. “I just need a few days to wrap things up here and get back home.”

After ending the call with Riley, Taylor sat in stunned silence for a moment. The despair that had been threatening to engulf him just minutes ago had evaporated, replaced by a bubbling excitement and overwhelming relief.

This was it. The answer he’d been looking for, the solution to the impossible situation he’d found himself in. He could provide for his family, stay connected to the rodeo world, and do it all without the constant travel and physical risk of competing.

Taylor stood up, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. He needed to pack, to make arrangements, to let the UPRC know he was withdrawing from the competition. But more than anything, he needed to share this news with Loretta.

With shaking hands, he dialed her number. It rang twice before her voice, solid and familiar, came through the line. “Is everything okay? You’re calling earlier than usual.”

“Everything’s great, sweetheart,” Taylor said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. “More than great, actually. I’ve got some big news.”

As he filled Loretta in on Riley’s offer and his immediate acceptance, a renewed sense of purpose washed over him. This wasn’t the path he’d envisioned when he’d set out on this journey, but maybe it was the path he was meant to take all along.

“Oh, Taylor,” Loretta breathed when he’d finished. “That sounds perfect. When are you coming home?”

Taylor grinned, already picturing the reunion. “Tonight. That okay with you?”

Loretta’s laugh was like music to his ears. “More than okay. Georgie and I can’t wait to see you.”

After ending the call with Loretta, Taylor set about making his arrangements with an energy he hadn’t experienced in weeks. He informed the UPRC of his withdrawal, packed up his gear, and told his dad the good news.

Then he rented a car so he could drive himself and get there faster. As he left the arena, Taylor felt a mix of emotions. There was a twinge of sadness at leaving behind the dream of being a champion bull rider. But it was overshadowed by the excitement of this new opportunity, and the joy of returning to his family.

The miles flew by as Taylor made his way back to Last Stand. With each passing hour, the weight of the past month lifted from his shoulders. The constant pressure, the gnawing self-doubt, the fear of failure—all of it was fading away, replaced by hope and anticipation.

As he crossed the town limits of Last Stand, Taylor knew he was home. Not just the town, but his family waiting for him. Loretta, with her unwavering support and boundless love. Georgie, with his infectious laughter and endless curiosity. They were his true prize, worth more than any rodeo purse could ever be.

Taylor pulled up to their apartment building, barely remembering to put the truck in park before he was out the door. He took the stairs two at a time, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

Before he could even put his keys in the lock, the door swung open. There stood Loretta, her eyes shining with unshed tears, Georgie balanced on her hip. “Welcome home, cowboy,” she said.

Taylor dropped his bag and swept them both into his arms, holding them tight. As Georgie’s little arms wrapped around his neck and Loretta’s familiar scent enveloped him, Taylor knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.