The Cowboy Way

by Christine Wenger

  She stood and held up her hands in defeat. “Did a bull stomp on your brain? What if you get a permanent injury?”

  “It won’t happen.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  “Sure enough.”

  He struggled to get up. He wasn’t getting any better, and the little bit of horseback riding he did was killing him.

  Her hands on her hips, she squinted at him. “Should I go and get a horse so you can rope the saddle horn and let it pull you to your feet again?”

  “Just get a couple of cowboys who aren’t busy.”

  Beth raised her eyes to the sky. Must be another eagle that she wanted to watch.

  The wagon train poked along the bank of the river. Kevin was still at the helm. Clint Scully strummed his guitar. In another wagon, someone was telling stories.

  After forty-five minutes, they reached the campground at the bend of the river, probably just a couple of miles from where they had eaten breakfast.

  Three wooden buildings, all marked with signs, bordered the back of a large grassy clearing. The signs read Girls’ Outhouse, Boys’ Outhouse and Little Cabin in the Pines. A fourth building, long and low, was a barn with a corral on the side.

  “It’s my parents’ cabin,” Jake explained, without being asked. “Mom said that she was too old to stay in a tent, so Dad built the little cabin for her. It doubles as an infirmary and it has a CB radio in it in case of an emergency. Dad calls it their Honeymoon Cabin.”

  “How romantic,” Beth said, looking at the cute cabin with the lace curtains, nestled in the trees that overlooked a grassy carpet of green and a bluer-than-blue mountain lake. “And there’s certainly a pretty view.” Which would soon be obstructed by the tents for the overnight.

  As soon as they dismounted, a cowboy took their horses and led the animals toward the barn. A buzz of activity began as everyone helped in some way to set up camp.

  Jake and Kevin worked together putting up the tents. Kevin watched Jake with complete adoration, hanging on to his every word and doing his best to help.

  Beth wondered if Jake realized just how much Kevin idolized him. So far, Jake had turned out to be the perfect role model for Kevin, just as Beth had hoped.

  There were no more drinking incidents, but then, Jake’s own policy forbid any alcohol when they were on duty with the kids.

  Beth helped unload the wagons and distribute the mountain of overnight bags into the hands of the rightful owners. She made sure everyone got a sleeping bag. Then it was her job to get the girls settled into their tents.

  They were giggly with excitement. For most, it was their first camping experience. They couldn’t take their eyes off the boys, and when they found out that Beth was Kevin’s mother, she fielded dozens of questions.

  “He’s so cute. Does he have a girlfriend?”

  “What’s his e-mail addy?”

  “Why is he in a wheelchair?”

  “Do you live around here?”

  “Does he play any sports?”

  She hated to tell them that Kevin’s head was turned not by pretty girls, but by horses, cowboys and a rope endorsed by Jake Dixon.

  While they were ogling her son, she was ogling Jake Dixon. Right now he was bent over, pounding a tent stake into the ground. She could sense him, no matter where he was, no matter what he was doing. Sometimes she caught him looking at her, and they’d smile. Other times, he’d catch her looking at him. It was so high school, and she loved every minute of it.

  The softball game was always the highlight of the campout for Jake. No one could be funnier than Clint Scully as pitcher. They used a beach ball, and the bat was a big orange plastic monstrosity that Clint had found in a clown catalog.

  The kids wheeled around the bases, and no matter what happened, Clint and the cowboys always saw to it that the game always ended with the kids winning by one run when Cookie rang the bell for lunch.

  Jake was the umpire and his calls were always controversial. He and Clint played off one another to the delight of the kids and the spectators. Cowboys dropped balls and tripped and fell as the kids circled the bases. Hysterical laughter rang out across the peaceful valley.

  That was the best medicine, as far as Jake was concerned.

  But when the lunch bell rang, he was grateful. Finally, he could take the weight off his leg. He looked for Beth, but Trot called him over to his picnic table.

  “Could that cheeseburger be any bigger?” Jake asked, sitting down with a thankful sigh.

  “It’s Cookie’s Ramrod Special. It’s about three pounds of raw meat cooked enough to hold it together. Then he tops it with a pound of raw onions, a brick of cheese and a bottle of ketchup. He puts it between two loaves of Italian bread and hands it to you on a flimsy paper plate.”

  “The infirmary is going to be crowded after this meal,” Jake quipped.

  Trot suddenly became serious. “The hospital called me with the results of your X rays. You want the good news or the bad news first?”

  “Give me the good news.”

  “Let’s talk leg first. Your tib-fib fracture isn’t healing right. You have a non-union going, but it can be fixed. You’ll also be able to tell the weather with it from then on. There’s going to be a lot of rehab, but it’ll be okay.”

  “And the bad?”

  “It’s your back. You have a compression fracture of the lumbar spine. I’m worried about more injury to your back if you keep riding. I could give you the medical jargon, but to make it short, your back’s a mess. It can be fixed with a fusion and a plug from your hip, but you won’t have the flexibility you once had.”

  Trot’s eyes locked with Jake’s, and Jake knew what his friend was going to say. He held his breath. Please don’t say it.

  “Partner, my advice to you would be to retire from bull riding. It’s too risky.”

  Damn. “Even after the operations?”

  “Yes. Too risky.”

  “What if I don’t have the operations, Trot?”

  “You’ll be in constant pain with your back, and paralysis is always a possibility, though numbness would precede the paralysis. You’ll continue to limp like you do now, and the pain will increase because you’re throwing off your posture—that’s going to hurt your back even more.”

  “But you can fix me up? And I could ride again, although it would be risky?”

  “I’m good,” Trot said, shaking his head, “but I don’t want my good work wasted. Think about it, Jake. If you want to talk further, you know where to find me.”

  “Right here. It’s going to take you a week to eat the Ramrod Special.”

  Trot nodded and took a big bite out of the burger. “Now get lost and go eat with someone prettier than me, like that little gal over there that can’t keep her eyes off you. Or maybe it’s me she’s looking at.”

  “Not every woman is after you, Trot.”

  “What do you mean? I was just named ‘Catch of the Year’ by Rodeo Wrangler Magazine.” He took a long draw on a can of root beer.

  “She’s Kevin’s mother, Beth Conroy.”

  “I know. I’d like to talk to her, too.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “About Kevin.”

  Jake felt a hot rush of panic shoot through his chest. “Kevin’s okay, isn’t he, Trot? Tell me that the kid’s okay.”

  Trot put his monster of a sandwich down and blotted his hands and mouth with a paper napkin. “That’s what has me crazy. Kevin seems perfectly okay. I examined him and read his folder from cover to cover. I even called the surgeon who did his last operation. There is no reason why Kevin isn’t up and out of that wheelchair and running around Wyoming.”

  “Damn.” Jake thought for a moment. “There must be something that you all overlooked. In case you haven’t noticed, the kid is still on wheels.”

  “I don’t get it, either. My guess is that it’s something psychological. Maybe I’ll call my pal Jesse Goodwin. He’s a child psychologist. I’ll see if he wants to come up
for a Ramrod Special in exchange for a little one-on-one with Kevin. Okay with you?”

  “If it’s okay with Beth.” Jake stood up slowly, feeling every ache and pain. He clamped a hand on Trot’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. We’ll talk more.”

  Trot’s concentration returned to his lunch.

  Jake suddenly lost his appetite.

  After lunch, there were a couple hours of rest and relaxation. Trot and staff passed out meds. Some of the kids actually nodded off in their tents. Some listened to their headphones, some read, most of them talked and joked in groups.

  Jake lay along the bank of the river, his hat over his eyes, the sweet, warm breeze drifting over him. The rush of the water calmed him, lulled him into a state of tranquility.

  He sensed when Beth approached. He could smell her scent—a scent that was uniquely her own, a mix of sunshine and musky roses.

  She sat down next to him but didn’t speak, seeming content to just be at this pretty spot. He might have dozed off—he didn’t know—but when he woke up, she was still there, staring at the glistening river.

  “Hi. Have a nice nap?” she said quietly.

  “Hmm…how long was I out?”

  “An hour or so.”

  “I’d better get moving. It’s swim time and all volunteers are needed.”

  “That means me, too,” she added.

  He stretched, trying to wake up his muscles along with his brain.

  “Jake, I saw you talking with Dr. Trotter. Did he have any news about your X rays?” Her eyes showed concern.

  Jake didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t even want to think about giving up his career. Besides, he had a bounty bull to ride for Wheelchair Rodeo.

  “Trot and I were talking about Kevin.” It was half the truth.

  Her eyes grew wide in alarm.

  “No. No. Nothing’s wrong. Like you, he can’t understand why Kevin isn’t walking. He has a friend who’s a child psychologist. He was going to ask him to talk to Kevin, but only if that’s okay with you.”

  Her face lit up. “I was thinking of something like that myself, but…well…”

  “Don’t worry about the cost. Trot feels he can lure this special shrink here in exchange for Cookie’s cooking.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, then her voice gained strength. “But I can pay for it. I can pay in installments depending on the cost, and—”

  “Whoa! It’s part of the program. I’ve been thinking that we need a psychologist on staff from now on.” Actually, he had never thought of it, but it did seem like a good idea for both kids and caretakers alike. “So it’ll be free of charge.”

  “No. I couldn’t.”

  He took a deep breath. “Can’t you just let someone help you?”

  She stared at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. “I’ve always done everything by myself.”

  “Well, now this is one thing you don’t have to do by yourself. Can you handle that?”

  “I’ll try,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “Funny, I remember calling you an amateur cowboy-psychologist once.”

  “I remember. It was when I told you to give Kevin some space.” He tried to get up but his leg was numb. Boy, this was getting old. He was a pitiful wreck. “You listened to me. You gave him some space.”

  “And Kevin’s doing fine. He’s made a lot of new friends, and he has an autograph book full of signatures. He has gone through five disposable cameras and has enough memories for a lifetime.”

  “And what about his mother?”

  “I didn’t collect any autographs, and I didn’t take any pictures, but I’ll enjoy Kevin’s. I’ve met several people that I’ll keep in contact with when I get back home.” She met his eyes. “And I have memories that I’ll never forget.”

  He took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  Emily and Dex Dixon were trying to talk Kevin into finishing the fourth grade before he quit to work at the Gold Buckle Ranch.

  “There’s a lot to running a ranch, Kevin. It’s hard work, and you have to have a lot of smarts up here—” Dex Dixon pointed to his temple. “We use computers now to keep records of the cattle and horses. When it’s breeding time, we keep track of—ugh!”

  Emily jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow before he mentioned animals being in heat.

  “We’d love for you to work for us, Kevin,” Em said. “But you need a high school diploma at least. Some of our full-time help even have college degrees.”

  At the sound of distant laughter, all three turned to see Jake and Beth walking toward them holding hands.

  Kevin said the one word that they were all thinking: “Wow!”

  Emily tried to be casual, but Dex saw right through her. It wasn’t as if Jake held hands with a pretty woman every day—at least, not around them.

  “So you just go to college, Kevin,” Em said.

  Kevin pointed to Jake. “But Jake’s the best cowboy in the world, and he didn’t go to college. Isn’t that right, Jake? And Jake’s a zillionaire!”

  Jake looked at his father for help. “I think I missed the beginning of this movie.”

  “Kevin was just telling us that he wants to quit school and work for the Gold Buckle,” Dex said. “We were telling him that he needs a college degree.”

  Jake nodded, getting the drift. “We have high standards at the GBR. After you go to college, we’ll talk.”

  “But that’s so far away! And you didn’t go to college. Your official Web site said that you left for the rodeo trail after high school. That’s really cool. You are the coolest.”

  “My brother is cooler. He’s going to be a veterinarian—an animal doctor. He knows a lot about ranching, too. My other brother Cody is way cooler than I am, too. He plays a mean guitar and goes to college in Texas. My sister is at UNLV right now.”

  He dropped Beth’s hand to push Kevin’s wheelchair. “Cool is learning everything you can. I’ve always regretted not going to college.”

  “Really?” Kevin looked up at him wide-eyed, soaking up every word he said.

  “Really.”

  “What did you want to be, Jake?”

  “I wanted to be just what I am, but if I’d gone to college, I would have studied history. I enjoy reading and learning about all the people who made this country great.”

  “But you’re great, Jake. You’re in the Cowboy Hall of Fame and the Rodeo Hall of Fame. I read about you all the time. You made history.”

  Jake stopped dead in his tracks. It was as if a lightning bolt had hit him. He had made history, at least in the rodeo world. He was with the best when he was inducted. Bull riders like Donnie Gay, Lane Frost and Tuff Hedeman… All-around cowboys like Larry Mahan, Jim Shoulders and Ty Murray…

  He’d never thought about it before, but yeah, he’d made history.

  He’d broken long-standing records of cowboys he’d idolized as a child. He’d worked long and hard, learned his craft, studied tapes of rides and picked the brains of the best. He’d spent endless hours on the road traveling from event to event. He’d made his mark.

  He was the best once. He wanted to be the best again. He wanted to win the Finals in Vegas.

  “It’s true, dear,” his mother said. “You have made history.”

  “We’ve always been proud of you, son, college or not,” Dex added.

  Beth squeezed his hand. “I think you should go down in the history books, not only for your bull-riding wins or because you held the record for the most ninety-point rides, but because you created Wheelchair Rodeo for kids like Kevin.”

  “Yeah, Jake,” Kevin added. “You’re major cool.”

  A warm feeling settled over him. He was with all the people he loved the most in the world and he didn’t have anything more to prove.

  So why wasn’t that enough for him?

  “Thanks. I appreciate it,” he mumbled, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. He checked his watch. “We’d better get ready for swim time.”

&n
bsp; They all walked slowly toward the tent area, content in one another’s company.

  “What guys in history do you think are cool, Jake?” Kevin asked.

  “Hey, don’t forget about the women who made history. Ladies like Eleanor Roosevelt, Harriet Tubman, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Sacagawea.”

  “But what guys?”

  “Christopher Columbus, Abe Lincoln, Davy Crockett, Sitting Bull, Babe Ruth, George Custer, Jim Bowie…”

  “The rock star?” Kevin asked.

  Jake chuckled. “No, that’s David Bowie. Jim was at the Alamo.”

  “Oh.”

  “Did you learn about the Alamo yet?” Jake asked.

  “No.”

  “See why you have to go to school?”

  “Yeah,” Kevin conceded.

  “Good. That’s settled.” Jake rubbed his hands together. “Now, let’s get changed and go swimming.”

  “Cool.”

  Jake thought that there were several times in life that really deserved to be classified as magnificent, and this was definitely one of those times.

  Last night with Beth was another.

  Chapter Twelve

  The sun was bright and high in the sky. Only a slight breeze bent the long grass on the bank of the river.

  Excitement charged the air as the kids got ready to swim. They were slathered with sunscreen, belted into life jackets and assigned to groups. There were about three adults to each swimmer. One was a medical person, one was a volunteer and the third was a certified Red Cross lifeguard. Extra medical staff were all on high alert.

  Beth was assigned to a young girl named Eileen who was both thrilled to be going swimming for the first time in a “real outdoor place” and scared silly. Dr. Trotter was also on her team, along with a perky California-type blond lifeguard named Cheryl “Call me Cher” O’Brien.

  Cher cut an attractive figure in her red one-piece bathing suit. Beth felt like her tropical two-piece with a skirt looked like a reject from a muumuu factory. She didn’t have a speck of tan, and after seeing Cher and a couple of the women, she vowed to lose twenty pounds when she got back home.

  Dr. Trotter was patient and encouraged Eileen with jokes and teasing. Soon she was splashing him and letting her legs dangle in the water.