LOVE OF A RODEO MAN (MODERN DAY COWBOYS) by Bobby Hutchinson Page B

their excited hosts. Carol poured steaming cups of hot coffee for herself and Sara, while the men enjoyed a cold beer after they’d made another trip out the barns to inspect the colt.
    Bill was elated about the foal and obviously pleased to see Mitch again after so many years.
    “I followed your career the whole time you were in rodeo, Mitch, felt proud as all get out when you won All Around Cowboy those times. Then we were over at Carol’s folks’ place one night and we happened to see you on TV, doing commercials, and I figured I’d be boasting about how I knew you when. Thought for sure it’d be Hollywood next stop.”
    “No chance,” Mitch declared fervently. “That little taste of making a film was more than enough for me. Never saw a bigger waste of people’s time than that performance.”
    They talked about television commercials and the endless process of filming for several minutes, and then Bill said awkwardly, “Terrible thing, your brother getting killed that way. We were at the funeral, Carol and I, but with your mom so broke up, we didn’t want to intrude, coming over to introduce ourselves. You home for good now?”
    Mitch’s features seemed to tighten, and his glance fell to the beer can he was holding. His voice was low, the dis tinctive drawl more pronounced when he answered.
    “Looks that way. Af ter Bob died and Mom got so depressed, Pop started talking about selling the ranch and moving to Spokane or some such nonsense. They never thought much of the rodeo life I led. Mom was always scared I’d get hurt, and it got worse during those months after Bob died. She became more and more anxious, and I did some thinking and made the decision to come back and try my hand at a steady job.”
    He grinned wryly, but Sara could sense the bitte rness behind the words and the smile, just as she had the first night they’d met. Mitch was not entirely content with being home again.
    “I always figured I’d come back someday anyhow and be a rancher,” Mitch was adding with an attempt at lightness that didn’t quite make the grade. “Professional rodeo’s a young man’s game, forty’s about the limit and I’m thirty-four already. So it just happened sooner rather than later fo r me, coming back here and settling down.”
    He swigged the last of the liquid from the can. “Truth is, Bill, I’d like to do exactly what you’re doing someday, only instead of A rabs, I’d breed and train quarter horses for rodeo stock.”
    Bill nodded . “Raising any kind of livestock’s a tough racket these days, but Carol and I dreamed of having a breeding stable from the day we got married five years ago. We’re carrying a hefty mortgage on both this ranch and on our stock,” he confided forthrightly, “but if we can make it through these first couple years, we’ll survive.” He reached an arm over to the chair beside him where Carol sat and draped it across her shoulders. “Not too many conveniences way out here, but we like it fine, don’t we, sweetheart?”
    Carol’s affection for her husband was patently clear in the loving way she fondled the work roughened hand cradling her neck and turned her head to give him a smile full of love. “It’s the best sort of life I could ever imagine,” she said.
    Sara felt a strange constriction in her chest, not envy, but wistful recognition of something rare and beautiful as she watched Bill and Carol Forgie. Here was a couple with a common dream and a wealth o f love for each other that literally shone around them like an aura.
    Would she find that kind of relationship someday? Her eyes drifted down to the rounded shape of Carol’s pregnant middle under the blue gingham smock. How wonderful it must be to carry a child for the man you loved, to create that child from shared passion, bear it, watch it grow and develop.
    The memory of a recent kiss made her hotly aware of the man sitting across the table from her, and she glanced at Mitch, lounging casually back