He wasn’t much for movies or TV, though he had been compared a time or two to Clint Eastwood; people, usually girls, said he had the same intense gaze, the natural sneer. He wasn’t sure what that was; he usually was too focused to have a particular “look.”
Because of the intense schedule that bull riders kept up, he didn’t really have much of a life off-circuit. He spent his days not riding bulls getting from one event to the next. And when he wasn’t on tour, the circuit had public-service numbers and special events galore to be involved in.
When he had left the ranch, his father had just made the first agreement to allow fracking on a piece of land not worth much otherwise. Since the money that one acre could support was less than what the mining company had said could be produced, it had been an easy decision for his father to make.
Raymond had hoped Wade would see the value in operating a ranch, raising cattle and horses, and investing in real estate. At one time or another, Raymond had had his hands on about 70% of the land in Shiloh County, but usually that ownership only lasted as long as it took for the former owners to square up their accounts and get back on track.
Wade saw this as meddling in others’ affairs, because his dad wouldn’t invest in anything in the blind; if the borrower was in trouble, Raymond would step in, keep the bankers at bay by paying the note, and the borrower would then not only pay off the note, but would pay the Williamsons for their help. Seemed a bit too manipulative for Wade’s tastes. He liked being a cowboy, but with people, he didn’t like to get involved, didn’t like to get his hands dirty. He smirked.
Wade spent the next hour watching a couple of young bucks practicing roping in an empty, smaller arena. He sat on the bleachers next to some guys he had known since he first came to the circuit. They chatted off and on, commenting on the techniques of the ropers, the upcoming contests, and Wade’s chances with Red Rampage. Wade checked his watch and bid the men goodbye, saying he needed to get warmed up for his ride.
He strode back toward the main arena and was about to head under the stands when he saw Kyle’s wife, Amy. She called out to him and waved. He paused while she approached him. “Hey Wade,” she said. “I haven’t seen Kyle all day and can’t seem to find him. Have you seen him?”
“I saw him about an hour ago looking for Lilah. I guess she had some errand for him.”
Amy frowned. “Okay, thanks.”
“Hey, won’t you come in here and get out of the sun for a few minutes. Maybe some of the guys in here will know where he is or maybe he’s hanging out near the pens.”
Amy shrugged and followed him in. As they were passing a closed booth, he heard a familiar shriek. He’d always appreciated Lilah’s unique passionate screams, but this time they chilled him. When he heard a man’s murmured “Good god,” his balled fists became hard as iron.
Damn it!
Theirs had never been any kind of voiced exclusive relationship, but Wade never expected Lilah to saddle up another bronc while they were traveling together. He thought back on his times with Lilah, reminded of afternoons when he’d noticed the rumpled hair and half-buttoned shirts, but took those to be signs of his earlier doings. He looked back at Amy who had a look of horror. He turned to the door and pounded. Immediately the moaning ceased; low, whispered unintelligible words were heard from inside. The door burst open, and here they came, clearly already drunk and hanging all over each other. Lilah and Kyle.
A shriek came from his right, and suddenly Amy and Lilah were in each other’s faces. It was Amy, the mousy, slightly plump and now scorned wife who was on the offensive. Little, gentle Amy. Her ferocity was every bit as hostile and loud as would be expected of one of the other bull riders. She was generally known on the circuit for her easy smile and caring nature. She could always be depended on to cheer anybody up after a loss or an injury and went out of her way to make newcomers feel welcome with her fun sense of humor and infectious laugh.
Neither the laugh nor the good humor was in evidence now. Instead she stood dejectedly trembling in place, her face red and tears streaming down her cheeks as she lit into Lilah.
“You home wrecker! Sure, you can sit pretty on a horse, but you can’t keep your panties on when around a good man, can you? Use up Wade, then when he’s about to break it big, you go after a FAMILY MAN?”
Amy could throw down, apparently, as well as the next gal, Wade noted to himself.
“You’re nothing but a fat, dumb cow. What the hell did you expect would happen if you ever got a man? That he would stay faithful to you? That you could satisfy him?” Lilah sneered, her beautiful features contorting into an ugly mask. How had Wade never seen that face?
Not sure what to do, Kyle was still trying, vainly, to pull his T-shirt back over his head. Alcohol tends to make that kind of thing more difficult, even under the best of circumstances. Monkeys trying to play football came to mind, and Wade smiled unintentionally.
Something about Wade’s smile caught Lilah mid-insult. Even though he had been standing there the whole time, it was as if she were seeing him for the first time. She abruptly stopped, tried to shift into “poor little rich girl mode.” Failed. She put her arms up, expecting him to come to her rescue.
“B-Wade,” she stuttered, “I was just…I mean, we were just—”
She looked into his eyes, mournfully filling hers with her own brand of Cowgirl Crocodile Tears. He brushed past her in one fluid movement and moved toward Amy, carefully putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
He brushed the tears from her cheek. He wanted there to be a clear image in both women’s minds of his opinion of the situation, and that he was willing to do what he could to make it right.
“What do you want to do?”
With a full drunk on, Lilah stomped forward and knocked his hand away from Amy, more of a push than a knock, really.
“Why are you asking her that? What about me? Don’t you care how I feel? I’m your girlfriend.”
He answered Lilah, but didn’t look away from Amy’s downturned face, his concern still focused on the victim in this situation.
“Because, she’s the one crying, and you’re the one acting like a vindictive screaming harpy. Isn’t it enough that you’ve destroyed at least one family today?”
Lilah tossed her head, almost lost her balance. It would have been funny, had it not also been so pathetic.
“You don’t unnerstan’. We—we’re just having a bit of an argumen’. It’s not my fault she’s so soft she bursts into tears when someone criticizes her.”
Now, Lilah was losing her t’s. He hated when she did that. Wade glanced at her impatiently and opened his mouth—when Amy interrupted.
“How long has it been going on?” Amy asked, pained, in a whisper. She was definitely getting her power back, even as she was taking what could arguably be the most damage a human spirit can experience. Wade swung around to look at her. He took in the defeated slump of her shoulders and the pain she couldn’t hide in her eyes. He again put his arm around Amy’s shoulders, trying to steer her toward the rodeo grounds’ office.
“Let’s get you out of here, sweetheart.”
Lilah begged, grabbing his arm and clinging to it as he walked away. “No! You can’t believe her! She’s lying, she’s just jealous and paranoid!”
Wade shook her off impatiently. He barely glanced at her tearful, distraught face as he continued on his way, Amy in tow. Just an hour to go before his ride, and Wade now had too much on his mind.
They walked in silence, Amy sobbing gently, trying to get a handle on her emotions. He had intended to take her to the rodeo office, but she wanted to go back to the RV where her kids were. She’d gotten one of the bullfighters to watch them, and now she needed to feel them near her again.
He considered her, and what she represented. Here was a woman who loved her man so much that she would accept a life of touring and traveling, of worry and triumph. Not too many women existed like that, and he marveled at ho
w easily a racehorse like Lilah, so demanding, needy, and desirous of pampering, could go after the mate of such a loyal and sacrificing soul. He was truly moved, torn apart inside.
He left Amy with her kids and walked back to the trailer and the life he’d chosen, had pursued for the past nine years or so. He began to wonder what was really important.
Chapter 2
Just two hours before the scene outside the closed vendor booth, Lilah had had very different things on her mind. She had just finished her final qualifying ride. The horse barn was roaring, as the non-stop action meant to keep the crowd entertained before the bull riding main event was bringing the house down.
Over this roar, the localized lights of the ESPN3 team moved in, swooping up on Lilah and her mare. The camera was on the bottle-copperhead viper, better known as Mitzi.
“I’m Mitzi Bratvah, and this is ‘Rodeo Today.’ Well, we are here in Tulsa, and today’s featured rider is Lilah Chapman. Lilah hails from the great state of Oklahoma and has just finished her second attempt at a qualifying run. We saw your time, and though it was almost a full second ahead of your earlier run, it is almost a half-second off the leader. Lilah, with all the experience you bring to the game, what do you think you’ll have to do on your final run to stay in the finals?”
Lilah, still fuming over the poor performance she’d just finished, was not really prepared to talk to the copper-haired Barbie doll that was her former partner. Still, the show must go on, so she brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and faced the brilliant lights of a portable camera, and Mitzi.
“Hi, Mitzi, and thanks for such a good question! As you may know, in the last four competitions I have been a part of, the last run has always been my best! Why, just two weeks ago—”
Mitzi, ever the professional, and wanting to be sure to get those commercials in, cut Lilah off mid-explanation. “Thanks, Lilah. We look forward to how the competition plays out. Right now, the folks from Feed Forum have some important words, and we will be right back with more from the Tulsa Fairgrounds.”
Bitch, thought Lilah. Why Daddy let that woman take the reporter job for his TV show was beyond her. She finished putting the tack back in the paddock’s attached storage room, then glanced at her cell phone…she’d missed Kyle’s last text, but it was just another selfie. The kid had the goods; too bad he was hitched to that fat heifer Amy, or else she’d have moved on from Wade a long time ago.
He’d been good to her, especially back when she’d bruised her heel and couldn’t ride two years ago. They had looked good together, and his rising star seemed to be a dull glow behind her meteoric rise in the barrel-racing category. Daddy had been able to get her the best horse, the best trainer, and Wade in her bed—she had been on top of the world.
But that was two years ago, and her heel had gotten better. Wade didn’t make the quarter finals, and the month and a half he’d been in the hospital had really cramped her style. Because of his inadequacy, his ability to screw up and miss opportunities had caused her to seriously doubt his commitment to her, to their future.
Kyle had been a fun conquest. He hadn’t seen her coming, and the fact that he was married was just icing on the cake. Not too bright, but bigger, a little rougher than Wade, he’d been easy pickings.
It had started after a nasty spat with Amy. Kyle was a new bull rider, had only competed twice, when Daddy hired him to do some bull handling work at their ranch near Oklahoma City. The pull-around RV that Kyle had for a home was only a 22-footer—a “bed on wheels” as he called it. He and Amy had gotten married in 2011, when she was afraid she was pregnant and Kyle was a more innocent cowboy. Anyway, Amy had complained about his hours, saying they were too long, and he was gone too often for her liking; on the ranch, where they had parked the trailer, she couldn’t get any TV channels, or even a stable Wi-Fi signal. Kyle wasn’t the brightest, and he just snapped, jumped in their Ford 150, and headed to town.
“Town” was the “Kross-Rhodes In.” Mr. Allan Kross and Mr. Wesley “Rocky” Rhodes, two cowboys of questionable sexuality, had built the place in the ’70s, back when folks didn’t ask, didn’t tell, and when a bar in the middle of nowhere was better than no bar at all. They’d intended for the sign to actually say “Inn,” but the neon company in Denver hadn’t sent a proof, and they were already five hundred dollars into the process when the sign was delivered. Twice they’d built an add-on to “fix” the sign, and both had been knocked over by somewhat inebriated kids on their way out of the place, so after that, they just left it at “In.” The two eventually sold the place, moved on to—who knew?—probably Montana.
She’d seen the pickup fly out of the ranch’s drive like a bat out of hell, and initially, she thought to go find him, just to calm him down. Wade was doing a county fair gig north of town, and wouldn’t be back that night anyway, and she thought helping keep a hand on the ranch would be something she could do to help Daddy. They’d lost workers before, and every time her father would get so upset.
As she pulled out of the car barn in the Suburban, she’d even waved at Amy, standing beside Kyle’s “bed on wheels.”
* * *
Wade straddled the gate at the top of the arena as he waited for his bull to be driven down the chute. Everyone in the stadium knew he had drawn Red Rampage tonight, a huge, mean, son of a bitch that no one had managed to ride for three seasons. He was guaranteed an outstanding score so long as he managed to hold on for those eight long seconds. All he needed to do was to put the events of the day out of his mind and focus on his bull.
Right.
He had steered Amy back toward her trailer (actually, Kyle’s, but after the divorce, she would probably own most of his stuff; they were from Texas, and Texas court didn’t like cheating men), and then walked her and her kids over to the arena office and asked the managers to stay with the family. No one asked for details—they didn’t have to. This kind of thing happened every season, someplace. They could tell she was in no state to be by herself; they got her a place to sit and some coffee. Wade made sure she and the kids were comfortable before making his way back to his own trailer to change before his ride and try to get his head straight. Unfortunately, Lilah was there. She was sitting, waiting on his step. She ran to him sobbing, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m so so SO sorry,” she cried. “It was such a stupid mistake. I didn’t even really want to, he was just so persuasive and I was so flattered. I’ll never do such a terrible thing again. You know you’re the only one who can truly satisfy me. I promise I’ll make it up to you, do anything you want.”
Wade didn’t answered; he just pushed past her, his skin crawling with even that much contact. She had foolishly left her keys to the rig inside, so when he went in and closed the door behind her, she was stuck. She stood outside his door, alternately screaming abuse and sobbing with remorse for half an hour before she finally gave up and left him in peace.
He could hear his family now, whose advice and I told you so!’s rang in his inner ear for a whole hour. Being honest with himself, he was glad it had happened, though he regretted the pain it had caused Amy, would do to that family. But he was glad his eyes were finally opened to what a terrible person Lilah was. Never again would he make that mistake now that he was well rid of her. Not for any woman.
Once her ranting and his conscience quieted, he shook his head impatiently. As Granddad would be telling him again, Lilah was the last thing he should be focusing on now. He closed his eyes, prepping for his pre-ride ritual.
It was kind of silly, if you watched it out of context. As he walked to the arena, he heard the noise of the cheering crowd, the snorting of the bulls, and the antics of the rodeo clowns. The nearer he got, the more full his nose became with the smells, his ears with the sounds. When he got to the first fence, he knelt down, and rubbed the manure and sawdust over his hands, between his fingers. Silently, he called his grandfather’s name. The overload of sound, smell, texture, even the taste of the air over
whelmed him into silence. As he attempted to shut everything out and focus on the ride ahead, there was a problem. There should be nothing but him and the bull from this point until the instant the bell rang and he jumped clear of the ride. He breathed deeply, pushing away all the excitement and anticipation, all that had gone on earlier that day.
No good.
What poured into his thoughts right then were the worst kinds of distractions. In his mind, he saw Kyle coming around the corner of the trailer again, but now he knew the young buck was going to be with Lilah soon. He recalled his own stupidity, not seeing in Kyle’s erratic behavior his own dog-like response to her body, her sensuality. He opened his eyes as they led Red Rampage into the chute, but all he saw were the tears on Amy’s face. He did not even see Red’s eyes as he lowered himself onto the beast. “Okay,” he breathed, “time to go.”
The other cowboys, unaware of his mental state did what they do to drive more confidence into the rider. They clapped him on his back, punched his shoulder as he lowered himself into the chute, called out affirmations (“You can do this, partner!”, “Ride that baby!”) as they helped him settle on Red Rampage. Despite the scoreboard, every rider knew that at this point in the process, there was no competition in the gate, only camaraderie and support. They all knew what he faced ahead for the eternity that would be the next eight seconds. He strapped himself atop an enraged bull who had nothing on his mind but getting rid of his rider.
Spectators said later that Red Rampage was in fighting form tonight, pressing his mass against the gate and the fence, working his half-horned head into a frenzy. His bucking in the chute caused Wade to lean into his line of sight, and suddenly the ride became real. Wade grimaced, steeling himself for eight seconds of hell. If his prep time had been right, this would be working just the way he liked it. With Lilah in his head, he knew he was in for a wild ride, and he could tell he wasn’t going to be on form. If by some act of God he could stay on, he still had a chance to come out on top in this battle between bull and man. Even with his form off, it could still be possible that he would come out on top of the leader board too, cementing his place in the championships.
Cherished Love (Cherished Cowboys 1) Page 2