heat rose over the asphalt highway that stretched from the rodeo grounds off toward the horizon. Patience walked into the contestants’ area just as the afternoon performance began.
“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please rise for the national anthem.” Cowboys paused where they stood, each removing his hat and placing it over his heart. It was the usual flag-waving, patriotic opening and it never failed to bring a lump to Patience’s throat.
Shari had told her that Dallas was entered in the calf roping and she was curious to watch him perform. To her chagrin, he looked as good swinging a loop from the back of a galloping horse as he did riding a bronc. The calf shot out of the chute full speed and Lobo bolted after it. Dallas’s rope sailed out, floated down over the head of the calf, then Lobo’s rein jerked to a halt. The calf hit the end of the rope and swung around to face him. Dallas was off the horse before it came to a sliding stop and raced down the rope.
He downed the calf, jerked the pigging string out of his mouth, gripped and tied three of the animal’s feet, then threw up his hands to signal his finish. All the while, the palomino quarter horse worked with precision to keep the calf in place.
Dallas’s time was good, but not good enough to win. He walked back to his horse, slid his boot into the stirrup, and swung into the saddle. As he rode out of the arena, Patience noticed the scowl on his face.
The rest of the rodeo rushed past. During the bull riding, one of the cowboys took a bad spill, then the big Brahma gored him in the shoulder before the clowns could get him to safety. The ambulance hauled him away covered in blood, but it looked as if he were going to be all right.
She was tired by the time the afternoon ended. She returned to the trailer to find Wes McCauley standing next to her door. She had dodged his invitation to Enchanted Rock. This time he asked her out to supper. Wes was an attractive man, in a big, beefy sort of way. She told herself she would have a good time, but in the end she refused, thinking of Tyler Stanfield and her rotten luck with men.
Shari arrived a few minutes later, disappointed with her race and a little disheartened. They decided to wait until morning when both of them were rested before they set off on the long drive to New Mexico. According to Shari, Dallas would also be getting an early morning start.
“He won’t be coming to Clovis. He’s flying up to Canada for a couple of big-money rodeos in Alberta, one in Innisfail and the other in a place called Ponoka. Stormy’s meeting up with him again in Silver Springs.”
Shari was going out to dinner with Stormy and Dallas and asked Patience to come along but she declined, preferring to spend a little more time with the journal.
It was getting late. The night was clear and black, stars everywhere—nothing at all like the sky at night in Boston. She pulled on an oversize T-shirt Shari had loaned her that said Every Woman Loves A Cowboy—Or Will on the front, looking forward to crawling into her bunk and getting the chance to read. Charlie, the Circle C crew, and all the big livestock trucks had left right after the show.
Most of the contestants had also left, though Dallas’s fancy rig still sat parked in the RV area.
Patience had promised to check on Button before she went to bed so she slipped on a pair of Reeboks, checked to make sure no one was around, then ducked out of the trailer.
Tied next to Lobo and Stormy’s horse, Gus, Shari’s long-necked sorrel nickered softly at her approach. All of the horses munched flakes of hay and looked perfectly content. She gave them each a few pats, then headed back to the trailer, using the flashlight she kept beside the door to find her way. She had almost reached the RV when she heard it, kind of an eerie rattling sound.
Her pulse shot up. She remembered Shari’s warning to watch out for rattlesnakes this time of year and a chill slid down her spine. The
“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please rise for the national anthem.” Cowboys paused where they stood, each removing his hat and placing it over his heart. It was the usual flag-waving, patriotic opening and it never failed to bring a lump to Patience’s throat.
Shari had told her that Dallas was entered in the calf roping and she was curious to watch him perform. To her chagrin, he looked as good swinging a loop from the back of a galloping horse as he did riding a bronc. The calf shot out of the chute full speed and Lobo bolted after it. Dallas’s rope sailed out, floated down over the head of the calf, then Lobo’s rein jerked to a halt. The calf hit the end of the rope and swung around to face him. Dallas was off the horse before it came to a sliding stop and raced down the rope.
He downed the calf, jerked the pigging string out of his mouth, gripped and tied three of the animal’s feet, then threw up his hands to signal his finish. All the while, the palomino quarter horse worked with precision to keep the calf in place.
Dallas’s time was good, but not good enough to win. He walked back to his horse, slid his boot into the stirrup, and swung into the saddle. As he rode out of the arena, Patience noticed the scowl on his face.
The rest of the rodeo rushed past. During the bull riding, one of the cowboys took a bad spill, then the big Brahma gored him in the shoulder before the clowns could get him to safety. The ambulance hauled him away covered in blood, but it looked as if he were going to be all right.
She was tired by the time the afternoon ended. She returned to the trailer to find Wes McCauley standing next to her door. She had dodged his invitation to Enchanted Rock. This time he asked her out to supper. Wes was an attractive man, in a big, beefy sort of way. She told herself she would have a good time, but in the end she refused, thinking of Tyler Stanfield and her rotten luck with men.
Shari arrived a few minutes later, disappointed with her race and a little disheartened. They decided to wait until morning when both of them were rested before they set off on the long drive to New Mexico. According to Shari, Dallas would also be getting an early morning start.
“He won’t be coming to Clovis. He’s flying up to Canada for a couple of big-money rodeos in Alberta, one in Innisfail and the other in a place called Ponoka. Stormy’s meeting up with him again in Silver Springs.”
Shari was going out to dinner with Stormy and Dallas and asked Patience to come along but she declined, preferring to spend a little more time with the journal.
It was getting late. The night was clear and black, stars everywhere—nothing at all like the sky at night in Boston. She pulled on an oversize T-shirt Shari had loaned her that said Every Woman Loves A Cowboy—Or Will on the front, looking forward to crawling into her bunk and getting the chance to read. Charlie, the Circle C crew, and all the big livestock trucks had left right after the show.
Most of the contestants had also left, though Dallas’s fancy rig still sat parked in the RV area.
Patience had promised to check on Button before she went to bed so she slipped on a pair of Reeboks, checked to make sure no one was around, then ducked out of the trailer.
Tied next to Lobo and Stormy’s horse, Gus, Shari’s long-necked sorrel nickered softly at her approach. All of the horses munched flakes of hay and looked perfectly content. She gave them each a few pats, then headed back to the trailer, using the flashlight she kept beside the door to find her way. She had almost reached the RV when she heard it, kind of an eerie rattling sound.
Her pulse shot up. She remembered Shari’s warning to watch out for rattlesnakes this time of year and a chill slid down her spine. The
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