Ride Me Cowboy #3 (The Cowboy Romance Series - Book #3) (8 page)

BOOK: Ride Me Cowboy #3 (The Cowboy Romance Series - Book #3)
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“Sure.”

“Tell Cowboy Bob for me that I’m sorry I couldn’t
help with the cows and tell Lexi that I’m sorry I missed her.” Lydia grabbed me
up in a hug, which surprised me.

“I will. You come home to us safe,” she said.

“I will.” I smiled at her. She was truly my only
ally on the home front. I just felt bad that it caused her anxiety. I’m sure
she catches flak from my dad about it.

I packed my clothes and things and then I hooked up
the trailer and loaded up my tack and
Sarge
. It was
late to head out for at least a seven hour drive depending on traffic…but I
wasn’t going to sleep much tonight anyways. I put on a Garth Brooks CD and
tried to clear my head as I drove. It didn’t work…my head was full of the
things I wanted to avoid thinking about whether I liked it or not. My own father
disowned me. That “back-up” plan or “second” life that Bob was talking to me
about was out the window. The ranch was always my back-up plan. I know that I’m
not super-human. I know the risks I take every time I nod my head and that
chute is opened…I thought I would always have the land to come home to. I guess
I was wrong.

Then of course, there was Lexi. If I
was
being completely honest with myself I would have to say
that she was the only woman I’ve ever even been close to falling in love with.
I couldn’t honestly say I was already there…There was still a lot that I didn’t
know about her. But what I did see was what she didn’t want me to. She wasn’t
that tough as nails city girl who didn’t need anyone that she liked to pretend
that she was. She had secrets that ran deep…and she needed someone to be there
for her. I can feel her goodness and I can see it. I can also see that she
wants to push me away because she’s afraid. I’m not sure what to do about that,
because I’m just as frightened of it all as she is.

It was five a.m. when I pulled into Livermore. The
great thing about cowboys is that I knew before I got there that the rodeo
grounds would be filled with men who had been up since before dawn and excited
about getting this weekend on the road. The gates to the rodeo wouldn’t open
for another 32 hours or so, but there was a lot of work to be done…and I not
only wanted to help, I needed to. This was where I felt like my presence made a
difference, and where I needed to be.

 

CHAPTER
NINE

MARK

I helped out with everything I could and finally got
a really good night’s sleep Friday night, just because I was completely
exhausted. I camped out at the rodeo grounds. Since Lexi wasn’t with me I
didn’t need a soft bed or a nice hotel room. I was good with the paltry showers
at the grounds and my bedroll….and my cowboy coffee.

At three p.m. the rodeo began with a parade that led
to the Grand Entry. The Grand Entry featured personnel from the rodeo board on
horseback, horsemen and women carrying sponsor flags, The rodeo queens and
visiting queens and a parade of old stagecoaches that is a tradition at this
rodeo. The Queen then presented the flag and the national anthem was sung by
the winner or the National Anthem contest, a sixteen year old girl with a
beautiful voice. Then, it was time to rodeo.

The bareback riding was first. I watched the first
few rides, waiting for my friend…a guy named Will to be
up
.
I
love bulls, that’s
my thing, but if I had to name
another event that was even tougher and more dangerous, I’d have to say it was
the bareback riding event. Riding a wild horse can get more dangerous that
riding a bull specifically because of the differences in their weight. A bull
can outweigh a horse by a thousand pounds in some cases. What does that mean
for the rider? It means that animal that you’re riding on can move faster and
jump higher. It means you say a prayer for great cowboy clowns that can get on
the stick fast enough to get that pissed off animal out of the arena before he
gets you. I stood up on the fence and watched when it was
Will’s
turn. Will and I have been entering the same rodeos since we were both busting
mutton in the third grade.

I watched as Will strapped the padding onto his
neck. It’s sort of like one of those neck pillows they sell for people who
spend a lot of time sitting down; only this one is made specifically to keep
the rider from getting whiplash…hopefully. Will doesn’t wear a vest, but he
does wear arm pads. He refuses to wear a helmet too. I don’t wear one because I
feel like they’re too heavy and they set me off balance. Will says he just
thinks the helmets look stupid in pictures. He has no
confidence
issues that’s
for sure. Today he drew a horse named Sugar Butt. The name
was misleading. Sugar Butt was one of the toughest draws. The horse is trying
to buck in the chute as Will lowers himself down onto his back. Will gets
centered and then nods. The chute comes open and out comes Sugar Butt with Will
attached by his legs and the hand that grips tightly onto the rigging. He has
his left arm up in the air and I can see the determination on his face.

Sugar Butt is jumping and kicking outward furiously
with his hind legs and running in a tight circle. Will’s body is flailing, but
he’s still in the center of the horse and his left hand is still in the air.
Will stayed on for the eight seconds and when the buzzer rang, he slid off like
a pro and walked away with his hat still on his head. He got an eighty-
five which
is pretty damned good. He and I might be having a
drink together in Vegas at the end of the year.

After the bareback, I watched the tie down roping
and then the team roping. Saddle Broncs were next. If you talk to a saddle
bronc rider, they’ll tell you it’s harder than bareback. I haven’t ever tried
it, but I guess at least with bareback and bulls you can drive your legs into
the animals flesh. In saddle bronc, the saddle sometimes hinders more than it
helps. I enjoy watching it either way. When that was finished next
came
Wild Cow Milking. Most people who have never been to a
rodeo laugh when they hear that one…but it’s a real thing. It’s even as
dangerous as the other events. It involves a four-man team trying to corral a
cow and at the same time trying to get enough milk into a bottle and rush back
to a waiting judge in the fastest time possible. Each event takes between
thirty seconds and two minutes. Again, I’ve never done it but it seems a lot
like a foot race to me and the fastest guy wins. From there, they move on to
the steer wrestling which is always fun to watch. Those guys are tough.
Then team roping and barrel racing.
When I was a kid, I
always thought I’d end up with a barrel racer. Pretty, fit girls who love
horses and rodeo as much as I do…what could possibly go wrong there? Well,
right after I broke up with Taylor I dated one. She was gorgeous and great at
her sport and extremely conceited. She needed me to tell her how gorgeous she
was constantly and she went completely berserk if I even so much as talked to
another girl. The first time she wailed on me with her tiny fists, I was
amused. It lost its humor quickly. I still run into her at rodeos and she’s got
her a whipped and beaten down old cowboy now. She hasn’t changed at all.

I didn’t stick around to watch the barrel racing. It
was time for me to get ready for my ride.

 
I put on my
chaps and my gloves and my vest. I put my hat back on my head and then I
watched. The first guy was an old-time cowboy…already forty. He rode his bull,
but the bull was terrible. I felt bad for the poor guy. He only walked away with
an eighty. The second guy only went five seconds. While three and four were
going, I went to the chute where my bull was…a guy I’d met before several
months earlier named Hot Dog. That name is as misleading as Sugar Butt. He
needs a name like Satan or Attila the Hun. He’s an evil bull…but I can do this.
As I slid down onto his back and he rammed his head into the chute I looked
into the stands. I tried to picture Lexi sitting there
like
she was at the last rodeo. Damn, I miss her. I grabbed the rope and nodded.
Me and hot dog
were off like a shot.

I raised my hand skyward and for the first few
chaotic kicks it felt good. Usually three seconds in, I know if I’m going to
ride. This one felt good. I could hear the crowd cheering and going wild and
once again I looked up. No one was here for me. That one little look was going
to decide my ride. Suddenly I was sliding sideways. I refocused and got back
right in time for the bull to twist again. I was sliding towards the other side
when the buzzer rang. I’d ridden the S.O.B.! I was grinning at first as I tried
to let go of the rigging, but I realized just as I hit the dirt with my face, that
my right wrist was tangled up in it. Hot Dog was still kicking and snarling and
twisting. I was being dragged along for the ride. Each time his feet came off
the ground, I wondered if the was going to crush my chest as he came back down.
He launched up for a spin…I think he was trying to shake me loose. As he came
off the ground that time, so did I. The bullfighting cowboys were there. The
crowd is quiet now and that makes me even more nervous. My wrist felt like it
was snapping with each thrust of the powerful animal’s body. The bull riders
are doing their best, but to no avail. Rationally, I knew that only half a
minute had passed, but it seemed like so much more. I flopped up and down like
a rag doll as I tried to disengage myself.
 

Somehow, by the grace of God, I got loose. The crowd
was cheering again…until the bull suddenly lowered his head. My wrist was in
excruciating pain, but I had to get out of there. I took off for the fence and
when I looked over my shoulder I saw the worst part of the bull, coming right
at me. His head was down and he was pounding the ground with his front foot.
His horns were aimed for me and before I made it to the fence, in spite of the
bullfighter’s best efforts, he caught me with those big horns and threw me and
then he stomped on my side. I was in blinding pain so I’m not sure exactly what
the bullfighter’s did next but somehow, they distracted him and got him out of
the arena before he had a chance to finish me off. I was dizzy and I could feel
sweat…or maybe it was blood, trickling down the sides of my face. I turned onto
my stomach and in push-up position; I pushed myself up out of the dirt
.
 
Then, I walked over
to the center of the arena and picked up my dirty hat. The crowd was on their
feet for me, so I raised my hat and limped out of there. As soon as I got out
of the arena, they were rushing me towards the locker rooms where the trainers
were. Someone handed me a little flask of whiskey and I took a long pull from
it.

The locker room was bright with fluorescent lights.
There were already several injured cowboys and one of the bullfighters in
there. The small medical staff rushed towards me and start shining lights in my
eyes and asking me stupid questions like “How many fingers do you see,” and
“Who’s the president of the United States.” I think I answered correctly, but I
was still a little dazed and confused, so I hoped I didn’t say anything too
stupid.

I glanced to my left…but mistake. One of the doctors
was draining fluid from a guy’s elbow with a big ass needle. I’d rather get
stepped on by that bull again. While I was distracted by that sight, the doctor
touched my wrist. I cried out.

“Can you bend it?”

“If I want to feel like I’m dying.”

“It’s already turning purple. We need to get an
x-ray but I’m pretty certain it’s broken.”

“My fingers and my forearm are numb.”

“We need to get you to the hospital right away.”

“What did I score?”

The doctor sighed. This wasn’t his first rodeo. He
looked at one of the volunteers and said, “Can you find out his score?” The kid
nodded and took off. “Now, after he comes back with that score, you need to go
to the hospital.” I didn’t argue with him. I hurt too badly. I did refuse to
get on a gurney. My legs weren’t broken.

The young volunteer came back quickly. When he did,
he was smiling.
“Eighty-six, sir.”
I laughed. My face
hurt. He called me “sir” how the hell old did I look?

“Thank you,” I told him.

“You’re welcome. I’m honored,” the kid said. It was
nice to know that someone “honored” time with me. I thanked the doctor and the
nurses and then I walked…or maybe stumbled and limped, to the ambulance. They
took me to the nearest ER.

*******

I was given a bag of ice at the ER and put in a room
to wait. I kept looking at my phone, thinking about calling someone…but who
would I call? My dad wouldn’t give a shit. Lexi probably wouldn’t either and
poor Lydia would just get caught in the middle again. I stuck the phone back in
my pocket and continued to drown in my own misery the way I did everything
else…alone.

A pleasant lady in pink scrubs came in and said,
“Well, what do we have here, a real cowboy?” I laughed.

“I like to think of myself that way,” I said.

She pushed the wheelchair next to the bed and said,
“Saddle up cowboy. Let’s go get that wrist x-rayed.”

“I don’t need a wheelchair.”

“I’m sure you don’t, tough guy, but it’s the rules.”

Reluctantly, I got in the wheelchair and she chatted
all the way down the hall. She didn’t really seem to expect any answers or
comments from me and I was grateful because I wasn’t in a talkative mood. My
wrist was manipulated in several painful ways as they took pictures of it and
finally when I thought I was going to die they stopped and pink lady took me
back to my room. After I got back on the bed she said,

BOOK: Ride Me Cowboy #3 (The Cowboy Romance Series - Book #3)
12.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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