His hands moved over my back in comforting ways as he coo’d softly in my ear. His fingers delicately entwined loose strands of hair behind my ears as he gently rocked me back and forth, not hurrying me or trying to stop the water works in any way. I put my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, letting my loneliness and uncertainty subside, relishing the tight encircling of his arms.
When I could figure out how to stop the tears, if not eradicate the need for them, I gave a little resistance in order to straighten up. After a moment, he let me, eyes trained on my face as I wiped away smudged make-up.
“You look fine,” he whispered, his face still close to mine.
I met his eyes. William was looking back at me with an expression of such tenderness it opened my weepy heart all over again. Two big crocodile tears escaped my tear ducts and tumbled down my face. He brought his hand up slowly, his eyes still locked with mine, and gently touched his thumb to my cheek, wiping away wetness, then finishing by tracing a finger along my jaw.
“Please don’t cry,” he said in a way that matched his expression. “Is it the accident with the bull? The cowboy will be okay. I talked to him. He has injuries, and will be sore for a while, but he’ll be fine.”
I nodded. Then shook my head.
He gave me a small smile. “I am here, if you want to talk.”
I started to laugh. That weepy “everything is all better” laugh that crying people do to move out of the center of attention.
“Men talking?” I said sarcastically.
He smiled. “Only to the damsel. I don’t make a habit of it.”
As the sadness receded embarrassment pushed forward to take its place. Pity parties never did anything good for starting relationships. Men usually went all gooey for a female in trouble, especially with tears they weren’t responsible for, but it wasn't lasting concern. They were drawn to the vulnerability. This situation fit that bill perfectly.
The problem was, when that veil of intimacy lifted, both parties would go back to the real world. The girl would go back to her normal self, which in this case was a pushy, bold bitch, and the guy would go back to his normal self, which was a busy, hot, successful entrepreneur. The moment, as it were, would get disjointed within reality. Expectations would get erased, or worse, tainted, and the whole thing would be doomed.
I knew this from experience.
“Okay, all good. Thanks for the pep talk, coach,” I said as I stood, one final wipe beneath my eyes for any lingering mascara.
He gave a weak smile, eyes still locked with mine, searching—probably wondering where the magic from a moment ago went. He was unaware that he was dealing with a pro. I could bounce back on a dollar, baby!
So please like me after this, okay?
After a moment, he asked, “Are you okay to go back?”
I let the breeze finish drying my tear streaked face.
“Yes, I’m okay. Sorry about that.”
He shook his head in frustration, waving away my apology with his hand. Not taking his probing eyes off mine, he politely gestured for me to go ahead of him. Ladies first.
As we rounded the corner of the trailer, the older man ran into us. His expression was hard until he took me in, then immediately softened.
Apparently I was still emanating chick in distress.
“Willie, your next bull is about to go. You should get back there. Georgie Jones is ridin’ him.”
“Georgie is here?”
“Yes. And he is about to ride your bull. I’ll escort this lady back.”
William looked at me, nodded, tipped his hat and said, “Ma’am.” He ran off toward the gate.
The older man held out his hand. “My man is Tom. Senior.”
It was William’s dad, as I thought. The looks gave it away. Well, and the name.
“Oh, hi. My name is Jessica Brodie.”
“Brodie? Is that Scottish?”
“Uh, yes actually. My grandfather was from Scotland.”
He returned my smile. He had an ease to him that made me feel comfortable. “My wife’s maiden name is Scottish. Cameron. Would you like to head back to the arena?”
Yeah, sure, why not? Today couldn’t possibly get any worse.
By the time we arrived at the arena, the rider was ready, hand up but immobile, braced. Just waiting for that gate to open.
“This rider is very good." Tom said conversationally. "He competes in the top purse rodeos with some of the best bulls in the country. He also happens to be riding the toughest bull of my son’s stock. It is a wonder how he drew this bull. It is good for all the other riders, of course. Otherwise he would probably take the purse without a struggle.”
As man and beast rushed from their tiny confinement, the same old dance filled the arena, except this time, the performers were professionals. The bull was obviously the strongest, brutish yet, with twists and turns, leaps and bucks to make a hooker proud. Georgie was picking up what the bull was putting down, almost.
The bull did a powerful spin, jump, buck, spin combination that had the rider totally bewildered. He was hanging on by sheer stubbornness. Georgie’s once perfect, coordinated rhythm was thrown to the walls. The power in this animal was beyond the others, and this rider could not maintain his poise under such duress.
After the buzzer sounded, and Georgie was chased to the gate, Tom said, “That was a really good ride. It wasn’t pretty, but that was a nasty bull, so he’ll get points for that. Should be a high scoring ride.”
“Does that mean the bull will go to the bigger circuit? Or, you know, more advanced rodeos?”
“Well, he’ll have to be in a few more small time rodeos first, but I have no doubt he’ll make it if he continues to do this well.”
Everyone turned as the rider came strutting into the area, sweat and dirt, just like Ty had been. It seemed a hazard of the profession. Tom excused himself and headed back toward the trailer, other things to do. Being that he was at a rodeo, I couldn’t imagine what those things were.
“I didn’t know you would be here until I saw you on that monster of a bull.” Georgie said as he gripped Ty’s arm in a strength-of-wills kind of shake, both with victory smiles on their faces.
“Likewise," Ty responded jovially. "How’d you like riding yours? They’re from the same stock, you know.”
Georgie looked at William. “Yeah, what you been feedin’ ‘em, haus? Dynamite?”
William smiled. “I feed ‘em little children. Keeps ‘em mean!”
“Ah man!” Georgie reeled back in laughter. “That ain’t right!”
“I had a helluva time keeping on my bull,” Ty said. “My arm’ll need to be iced tonight for sure. I’ve ridden them before, though, so I basically knew what to expect.”
“Yeah, I was going to ask you about that, Davies.” Georgie's eyes got a business gleam. “I wouldn’t mind some practice rides.”
“Well, these five are put into circuit so they are out, but I got a couple more that are close to as good. You might take a ride on those next week if you’re around.”
“Cool.” Georgie nodded, business over. His eyes scanned the area, a dog checking out the neighboring territory. As they skittered past me, they snapped back like a rubber band. “She with you?”
My eyebrows fell down to the ridge of my nose. Have you any manners?
William’s eyes flicked to me before he shrugged and looked out at the empty arena. The crowd was starting to break up and disperse. My initiation to rodeo life was over. After the day I’d had, I couldn’t say it wasn’t welcomed.
Adam answered Georgie, apparently now my pimp. “She came with some others, but her and her friend here,” he nodded at Candace, “are in our care for the evening.”
My eyebrows slipped a little further. Your care? I missed the part where you peed on me. Which, given the fact that I wasn’t crazy about golden showers, was a good thing. But still, I wasn't aware women were still viewed as property in this state.
Georgie looked back at me with the focus of a slut. Being that he was only mildly attractive, and also on the shorter side, I had a feeling being good at bull riding gave a guy a certain je ne said qui. A small scale celebrity status. And with girls, it didn’t matter your appearance, if you were known, you were doable.
Sometimes I had to wonder about my sex in general.
“You goin’ to the dance, darlin?” he asked, taking a step closer.
My eyes slid to Candace. “Dance?”
“Oh hoot, boys. She is an out of towner! Where you from, darlin?” Georgie asked with glee.
I wasn’t in the mood to be hit on. Plus, my earlier embarrassment with William, which was now exacting its punishment since he was busying himself with a freaking rope by his trailer instead of paying any attention to another man wanting me, made me surly. I reigned it in, for the sake of my ride home, but barely.
“I’m from L.A.” Then, in case he was dense, I said, “Which is in California.”
“Hmm. I like me some Cali-fornia girls. You girls are frisky.” He stepped closer again, now only a foot away, nearly invading my space bubble. It gave me a dose of claustrophobia. It also worried away the last of my good-behavior.
“Look, short stack,” I put my hand to his chest and pushed him back. “I am not in the mood.”
Moose and Adam burst out laughing. William’s head snapped up, a frustrated expression on his face. Possibly I was supposed to be nice to his future clientele, but he could just stuff it. They all could. I’d had a bad day.
Ty put his hand on Georgie’s shoulder. “Better luck next time, man. I’m slam out of pity for ya.”
Georgie shot me a gleaming smile. “I love a girl that plays hard to get. I love those bright eyes and country music,” he sang with his hand on his heart.
“Bright lights dummy. Lights, not eyes. You’re dumber’n a box of hair!” Adam said with a grin, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. He was enjoying the show.
William walked away. Ty followed with Candace keeping pace. When Moose and Adam shifted and stood, walking after the others, I figured I’d act like a Lemming and follow blindly as well. Suddenly going home with Dave and JP didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
“I think she loves me, boys!” Georgie shouted merrily.
I shook my head as I threw a glance back his way. Some men never gave up. When I turned back around, I caught the tail end of Moose’s apprehensive glance. Apparently he, and probably all of them, wondered if I’d succumb to Georgie’s strange kind of charm. I'm at a rodeo for one day, and already they think I’m a groupie? What the hell?
“I think I am going to head on,” William was saying to the guys as I walked up. “Unless you all want to go to the dance?”
“Hell, I love them dances. I’ll be DD if y’all want?” Adam said.
“I’ll go. Gotta shower and change first, but why not? How about you?” Ty asked Candace.
“Sure!” she said, a little too happily.
Five bodies turned my way.
“Uh... Peer pressure is fun and all, but what is this dance?”
“After rodeos there is generally a social dance. Just some music and beer. It’s a good time,” Moose explained.
“If I went, how long would I be in for?” I asked the group.
“In for?” Ty asked as he lounged against the trailer. “It isn’t prison. Do you dance?”
“I have been known to cut a rug or two,” I replied. “But I don’t feel like getting drunk and doing something stupid. Plus, dancing to country music without drinking is not the stuff of magic. I don’t want to be hit on, either. It’s been a long day.”
“Note to self, hit on Jessica on short days, only.” Ty acted like he was writing on a notepad—the pad being his palm.
“C’mon Jess, please come!” Candace pleaded.
What was the saying about fallen soldiers?
“I don’t have JP to keep me out of trouble,” I said as a last ditch effort.
“I’ll take care of that,” Moose responded as he flexed his left bicep. Then patted it. Then kissed it.
“I suppose next you’ll ask me if I want to see the gun show…”
Moose’s brow furrowed. He shook his head slightly.
With a put-upon expression, I bent my arms at the elbows, held them up, hands fisted, and flexed. “See these guns?”
Moose’s eyebrows fluttered upward, the corners of his lips following as if a string connected the two.
“Anyway—“ I continued, ignoring William’s blank look.
“Now how’d I miss that one growin’ up?” Adam asked incredulously, a smirk taking over his face.
“You’re slow, that’s how,” Ty said, getting comfortable in his lounge, which took him closer to Candace.
“Right, okay." I sighed and worried the ground with my toe. "I guess the big brute is now my bodyguard. Good times.”
From the trailer, we all heard Tom’s voice say, “I’ll be going, too, if y’all don’t mind.”
All the boys’ faces lit up. Except for William’s. “Well, it looks like I have to go by default. Alright, who’s first for the shower?”
Chapter Eight
Showered, not changed because I didn’t make a habit of carrying around a knapsack on a stick, and wearing borrowed makeup, since Candace apparently did carry one, I stepped down, out of the plush trailer and into the night. A circling of men and one woman were there to greet me, all turning at my entrance, the glow from the light behind me illuminating their faces.