Breene, K F - Jessica Brodie Diaries 01 (10 page)

“Um hum…” I was leaning against the
gate, fist under my chin, gawking for all I was worth. To continue my pleasant
occupation, I asked, “And how come you don’t ride?”

Every line in William’s body
tensed. He took a small step back from my stare. “I used to. You have to
understand—the smaller riders have it better. The best bull riders have been
smaller men. They have a smaller center of gravity for the bull to whip around.
It's hard to explain if you don’t know the sport...”

“Probably dangerous, too, right?
And you have all your breeding and stuff going on…”

“Correct,” William said grudgingly.
“Excuse me.”

I got a hard glare from Adam before
he shook his head and looked back toward the chute.

“What’d I say?” I wondered quietly
to Candace. “That’s just common sense, right?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t bring
that up anymore.”

“Well obviously yeah. But now I’m
curious…”

The gate swung open. Everyone
leaned forward….

Nothing happened. The bull was in a
Zen trance. It didn’t mind the crowd, didn’t care about the minuscule weight of
a small statured rider, and didn’t feel like running around a dusty arena in
front of a bunch of yahoos! I totally got where it was coming from.

“Now they are going to prod it,”
Candace whispered.

“What does that mean?”

My eyes following a lanky man in a
giant cowboy hat as he walked up to the small enclosure with the bull. He
carefully raised a long stick and threaded it through the bars. The crowd
directly around him peeled away, giving him room to work.

“Prodding means they’re going to—“

I could hear the sound of an angry
bee right before the bull jolted, bumping forward and hitting its horns against
the metal. A second prod had the bull moving all around, emitting loud, angry,
male cow sounds. Moooooorrrrrrrrrraaaaahhhhhhh!!! Bull speak for, “I am going
to plot revenge and kill you all just as soon as I get out of this jail cell!”

This time, ripped out of its Zen
trance, the bull blazed out of the gate, flying around the oval space with
hooves flying. The cowboy, hand up, body more orchestrated than the last guy,
was hanging on for dear life.

William and Adam were both leaning
against the ring yelling “C’mon! C’mon! Almost got it! Almost got it! HANG ON!”

I swear, men would scream
encouragement at anything. In a bar watching a football game it was like a pack
of angry, hairy cheerleaders yelling hoarsely for “their” team to perform.

I bet dudes would go around life
yelling for performance if they could get away with it: “Yeah, way to pack
those f**king groceries! In-the-bag!” Or, “C’mon—wash the car, man! You missed
a spot! Damn it! You missed—ah, man! It’s right there! Are you BLIND?!
UN-be-leave-able!”

Chuckling to myself, a buzzer
sounded from the judges two-level podium. Everybody cheered. But we weren’t
done yet. The bull was pissed and eight seconds didn’t mean jack now that it's
anger was up.

The cowboy untied his hand, which
was a hasty, frantic endeavor, and threw a leg over the bull’s back. He would try
for a mid-air dismount.

It worked out to be a mid-air
fling, his body sailing head-over-ass onto the ground.

“Ouch,” I commented.

The cowboy scrambled up in a wave
of dust and starting running. Right for us!

“Oh my God, not this way!” I
shouted, waving my arms in mayday.

The rider must have heard me, or
realized the bull had better things to do than chase him, because one harried
look over his shoulder had him slowing down and changing his flight plan off to
the right.

“Jesus,” I breathed with my hands on
my hips. “That was close, huh?”

“Not this way?” Adam asked with a
smirk, leaning on the fence so he could look at me around William.

I looked at Adam closely for the
first time. He had dark hair and eyes and a chiseled face. He wasn’t as good
looking at William, although not many men were, but he was striking. Where
William had a manly, ruggedly handsome face, Adam had more of a magazine
model’s airbrushed appearance. He wasn’t effeminate by any stretch of the
imagination, but he was textbook good looking with straight features, brooding
brown eyes, and almost baby-faced characteristics. He would be the next boy-toy
if he were in the movies. Harder for the older dames to grab a hold of, but
young women and g*y men would go crazy.

“Well, yeah, right?" I answered.
"I didn’t sign up to be gored by a bull!”

Adam huffed out a laugh and shook
his head.

“Alright,” William said, avoiding
my gaze. Moose moved up behind him, both men looking excited yet anxious. “The
first of mine is up.”

“What, the first bull?” I asked,
noticing a rider gingerly climbing into the chute and atop an enormous beast.

“No, the first dog,” Adam said
sardonically.

William gave Adam a strange
expression I couldn’t dissect. A second later it was wiped away as a commotion
sounded.

The rider’s butt had just touched
down on the bull’s back when the beast started thrashing. Since the enclosure
was only slightly bigger than the animal’s body, there wasn’t much the bull
could do besides crush the rider’s legs. Apparently that was plenty. The rider
climbed out of the enclosure so fast it looked like God had pushed fast-forward
on His DVR.

“He didn’t do this at the ranch...”
William said to Adam, pushing toward the fence again, and gloriously closer to
me. I didn’t move away from his arm brushing mine. That small contact felt like
a match to light the sparklers in my groin.

“I hope Ty doesn’t get a big one
like that!” Candace said with a grimace.

Hearing Candace’s voice, a thought
occurred to me. “Hey, where were those outlets you were talking about?”

“Dang, Jess, do you have A.D.D.?”
JP said in exasperation.

I leaned forward to flash JP a
frown around Candace. He was next to Phil and the fence, looking nervous and
uncomfortable. They had drinks, which meant that when I was staring with
googily-eyes at William, they were off treating themselves to the pride of the
rodeo—a beer. The nerve!

“It’s Davies’s bull, pay
attention!” JP hissed.

A grating sound, which meant the
gate was opening, pinged through the arena, followed by screams. My attention
was ripped away from JP, witty retort dying on my lips, as a bull surged out of
the gate, cowboy clinging desperately to its back. I had thought the other
bulls were powerful, but they were nothing compared to this monster! The bull
bucked so high it had time to whip its whole body around. Huge, powerful bursts
from one position to the next, had the cowboy looking for the eject button. His
legs peeled off, stuck, peeled off, whipped around, stuck once more.

“His hand is loose,” Adam commented
after the fourth buck.

Don’t know how he caught it, what
with the cowboy being five feet in the air and vertical, while the bull had
just landed. Master of observation, that one.

The little body landed with a dusty
thud. Limbs slapped the ground and bounced, as did his head. Everybody groaned.

The kid didn’t have time to feel
sorry for himself.

“The bull’s after ‘em!” Moose
yelled, pushing forward.

It was a race, bull versus human.
My hands clutched the gate so hard it was cutting off circulation.

As the bull ran the kid down, about
there, dusting the kid's pumping legs with hot breath, a freaking clown in a
cowboy hat popped out of a barrel, waving a flag in the bull’s face as it raced
by.

“What the f**k?” I squinted to make
sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

The bull caught the movement—since
it almost got stabbed in the eye—and slowed, confused. Chase the man running,
or figure out what the hell is up with the cowboy clown guy,, hiding in a
freaking barrel in the middle of a rodeo. I would have a tough time with that
one, too.

“He’s there to distract the bull
and keep the rider safe. There are three of them,” William said to my right,
eyes riveted to his bull.

“Okay, but, how come this is the
first time I am seeing one? Where have they been?”

“Popping up and down. Walking
around. Helping out. You probably didn’t notice because of your A.D.D., like
your friend said.”

“Oh ha ha. Everyone’s a comic.”

Adam turned to a smiling William.
“Well, he showed well.”

“Yeah, he did. What a relief! I’m
sure the bull got some good points on that ride, short as it was.”

“Why does he need points?” I asked,
thinking of heading for a beer.

“If the bull gets a good score,
he’ll get promoted to higher paying rodeos. This bull’ll hopefully go all the
way. They all will, knock on wood.”

Adam knocked on the post in front
of him. Which was metal.

Rolling my eyes at his idiocy, I
knocked on my wooden head to level out his folly.

“Jessica,” JP said behind me.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it
out.”

“Good one,” he said without
conviction. “We gotta go.”

“Where?”

“Home. Apparently Dave has a date.
I don’t know where he found her, but he apparently has one.”

“Ty hasn’t ridden yet!” Candace
exclaimed. Then turned bright red.

I snickered at her before taking
stock in the situation. I wasn’t totally into this rodeo thing, but I was
totally into this Greek God thing.

“We can take ‘em home,” Moose said
out of nowhere.

Adam studied Moose for a second,
trying to glean information telepathically, before shrugging, “Yeah, we got
room between us. For you, too, JP. If you wanna hang on?”

“Thanks, but I gotta go. My wife is
wanting me home soon.”

“Good call. You don’t want to piss
her off—she’ll withhold the sex.” I leered at JP.

Candace giggled. Apparently sex
talk made her giggle. Which was better than what it did to me, which is make an
ass of myself.

Everyone else was looking at me
with very different expressions. Moose looked bashful. Phil surprised. Adam
with a smile that infused his eyes. William wasn’t looking at me at all, but
the bit of his face I could see had a cockeyed grin.

JP was trying for angry, but was
like a drunk trying to act sober. He couldn’t keep it together.

“You know it’s true, Mr. Hormones.
You all do!” I said as I pointed to everyone. “They’re married. It’s legal by
Texas
law!”

After the guys had left and Candace
and I got beers, I was made to hurry back, nearly spilling my newly acquired
prize, because Ty was up.

“You really have a jones for that
guy, huh?” I asked, shaking beer off my hand.

“No, it’s just… well, he asked me
to wish him luck.”

“You guys are so going to do it.”

Candace giggled as we walked
alongside the trailer. As we neared I could hear William say, “Ty’s on Big
Blue.”

Moose rubbed his hands together
excitedly. “Here we go.”

“Is Big Blue b-bad?” Candace asked
between clenched teeth, standing next to Moose.

“He ain’t as mean as some,” Adam
moderated.

“Is the bull meant to be that
still?” I asked with a hush to my voice. Everyone was braced, like they were
waiting for an explosion. The bull could’ve been a statue it was so still.

“Yup,” William said, eyes once
again riveted. “He’s not the worst of the five, but he is a villain. He is cool
in the chute, but when that gate opens...”

“Ready for it, Ty. Ready for it,
man!” Adam said in fierce whisper.

The gate burst open and the bull
went charging out. Where most of the cowboys thus far had looked like loose
limbed dolls badly glued on, Ty was an extension of the bulls body. When the
bull jumped with both feet off the ground and bucked, Ty threw his body to
compensate, hand in the air, legs braced, body keeping balance. Each jerk had
Ty acclimating. Each landing had him shifting. Toward the end of the eight
seconds, though, he was starting to unravel. His form was slipping as the
animal won over with power and finesse.

“Get on ‘im, Ty!” Adam yelled.

Ty was leaning dangerously to the
side, his body taxed. Adam and William crowded to the gate, knocking Candace
and me.

They didn’t notice my scowl.

Moose grabbed us easily, now on
child watch, and stood right behind us without his eyes leaving the arena. Ours
were glued there as well.

The bull did a twist to the side
with four feet in the air, landed on two feet, twisted again as the other two
came down. Ty somehow got his body back on, and was trying desperately to cling
to the jeering animal, but the slide off had started. He was losing purchase.
The question was, could he make it to the buzzer?

Two more seconds. Try scrabbled on
the bull’s back with all he had. One—goal!

Everyone cheered. All things
considered, it had been a good ride. I turned to Candace with a high-five at
the ready.

“Oh God!” Candace said through
clenched teeth, trying to see around William.

Dumbly, I turned back toward the
melee, catching Ty sprinting at the side of the arena. His hat flew off as he
pumped his fists, trying for every ounce of speed he possessed. Good thing,
because the bull was right on his heels, gaining every second.

Ty reached the gate about the same
time as the bull. Instead of climbing up and over, like I would’ve done, in
sheer brilliance he jumped off to the right at the last second. The bull
smashed into the gate where Ty would have been, scraping against metal instead
of flesh.

“Oh my God. Thank God!” Candace
cried, fanning her face. She turned to me. “Did you see that?”

I nodded, ashen. “Close call.”

“Ty’s no novice!” Adam exclaimed
with a merry bellow, clapping Moose on the back.

“Did you guys see my score?” Ty
asked excitedly a moment later. He looked like a dust monster, covered in the
stuff from head to toe. His face was sweat and dirt, his eyes bright. He was
kind of hot, actually.

Candace nearly fainted, apparently
thinking the same thing.

“You are some f**king arse, you
know that?! I nearly wet myself when that bull was going after you!” I yelled
at him, throwing my hand up for a high five.

Ty broke out in a loud laugh. “All
under control, darlin’,” He said, giving a drawl to the last word. He met my
high-five as he winked at Candace, and went over to William.

“Your bull is a son-v-a-bitch, you
know that Davies? Hard one, that!”

William tore his expression away
from me, making me wonder what line I’d crossed with him this time. “How was it
compared to practice runs?” He asked Ty, wiping his palms on his jeans.

"Good, about the same."
They wandered off toward the trailer, talking shop.

Worried I'd be caught stalking with
my eyes, I turned back to the rodeo.

After a few more mediocre rides,
and one more beer, it was time for William’s third bull. Apparently this one
had a “green” rider on it. None of the boys thought an inexperienced kid should
be riding something as fierce and unpredictable as one of William’s bulls, but
there wasn’t much they could do about it.

As the rider was getting onto the
bull, which was a nasty affair because the bull was impatient and moving around
in the gate, a tall man strutted up to William like he owed the world. He was
about the same height as William, with the same broad shoulders and wavy black
hair. The way they stood, and their appearance, gave me a sneaking suspicion
they shared D.N.A.

I was too far away to eavesdrop
effectively, and then I couldn’t even stare, because the bull burst out of the
chute in fury with the helpless rider on its back. It jumped higher than any
bull yet. The power of this one was unmistakable. If it weren’t for the bull
rope, the cowboy would’ve been sent into orbit while doing air-splits.

The bull landed and immediately
bucked up again with all its feet off the ground. Then, in the air, it kicked
all four feet to the side and kind of twisted its body in a rolling motion. All
the boys and Candace sucked in a breath and leaned forward on the gate. Their
expressions were awe and horror both. The cowboy was completely off balance at
this point, and was obviously going to be thrown off as soon as the bull
landed.

Sure enough, a moment later the poor
kid was heading fast, face-first into ground. Half way to the face smash, his
upper body jerked around, caught by the still anchored hand. The bull jumped
again. The cowboy now airborne, legs useless, working at the rope, desperately
trying to get free.

The clowns rushed in, looking for
an opening with which to help.

As the bull jumped and spun, the
trapped cowboy was whipped along with it, his weight nothing to the strength
and power of the massive animal, not slowing it down in the least.

I clutched Candace.

The body of the kid was flung into
the gate, loose-limbed, helpless. His limbs made sickening dull thuds as each
hit the gate, ringing through the gasping stands, stopping hearts. His loose
hand tried feebly to block his face from harm as the side of his torso clanged
off metal, then was bashed by the thrashing bull.

“Get him away!” I half yelled,
wringing my hands.

Into the air again, body flung
forward this time, falling lifeless, defenselessly over the two hard, blunt
horns. His hand finally ripped free, his body landing in a heap at the bull’s
feet.

I sighed in relief. But it was
short-lived.

The bull bent to him immediately.
With its big horns, it ground the cowboy into the packed dirt, butting at him,
trying to do damage. The mighty swing of its head went high as it moved
forward, now stomping the lifeless shape.

I stared in mute horror, hand on my
chest, the other hand loosely covering my mouth. I wanted to walk away. I
wanted it to be over, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to leave him. As weird as
it sounded, I didn’t want to turn my back, thinking that if I could at least
bare witness, nothing worse would happen.

The clowns were trying to distract
the bull with all they had, putting themselves in harm’s way to get the bull to
leave the cowboy. Out of the corner of my eye I saw William hurriedly releasing
two dogs from a large crate. The dogs were small to medium sized, and looked
like cattle dogs. Blue Healer if my memory served.

The dogs took off into the arena
like phantoms, one target destination in mind. The first one to reach the bull
started barking, jumping up to nip the bull near its balls. The second went
after its heels, distracting, but also directing.

The bull was on its second gouging
of the lifeless form littered across the ground, when the irritating presence
of the dogs cut through its territorial haze. The animal gave a mighty snort,
pawing at the ground, unsure what to do with sharp teeth nipping at its foot or
belly.

The clowns, getting a window,
stepped right into the bull’s face, doing everything they could to work with
the dogs underfoot and direct the bull away. It was enough. All the confusion,
all the interference, had an effect.

“Oh…” I couldn’t finish the word as
the breath noisily escaped my lungs.

Our arena was unnaturally quiet as
the paramedics rushed onsite. The broken shape on the ground out in the arena
was completely still. Parents were sprinting to the lifeless form.

I had to turn away.

It was a strange thing, getting on
an animal that could do that to you. Why would someone flirt with that much
violence? Why would they call this a sport when it could go so horribly wrong?

I wanted Lump to organize the
people in the arena so the kid got the best care he could. Or Jane to explain
why it looked way worse than it did. Or even Flem to start yelling swear words,
lead me away, and tell me some gross jokes. Anything but this utter
destitution, watching violence while being an outsider, with no one I trusted
to lean on.

I have never missed a group of
people so much in my entire life.

I found myself wandering away,
tears threatening to break free. The past event reminded me of how much I
didn’t know about my new home, the culture of my new home, and I needed to
regroup. Badly.

As I was aimlessly rounding the
trailer, I ran directly into William, both of us trying to careen to prevent a
collision. Surprise lit up his face until he took in my helplessness. His
hassled expression melted into concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

I nodded. Keep it together!

I did not want to break down here.
I wanted to get my shit together, tuck it all away, and have a cry later on.

He nodded once, but didn’t seem
convinced. He grabbed something from beside the trailer and ran back to the
arena.

Relieved he didn’t try to play
awkward super hero with the strange girl having a meltdown, I wandered toward
the horses. Music notes floated on the still air and wound their way to my ear,
somewhat soothing. I followed them to their source, a small, battery powered
boom box, and sat next to it on a rock. I tried to clear my mind, but images of
the cowboy, flopping around like a doll in the hands of a naughty child,
punched my memories.

Cue waterfall of tears.

I let my head fall into my hands.
Let the tears come. Not that I had a choice.

As I was racking with sobs, my eyes
squeezed tight, hot tears making trails down my cheeks, I felt two strong arms
wrap around me, pulling me in to an equally hard body. I let them, knowing who
it was by the smell. I put my head against his chest and couldn’t stop myself from
tearfully heaving.

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!