Getting Lucky

by Carolyn Brown

  "How'd she get so much pull?" Julie asked.

  "She squatted in a field one day and they built the school around her. I can't remember when Mrs. Amos wasn't at the school. She taught for years. Was mine and Griffin's third-grade teacher. Teachers come and go. So do superintendents, but not Mrs. Amos. She's been there since Griff and Graham and my parents were in school."

  "Might be nothing could keep me here," she said.

  "Want to talk about it?"

  "Not with the backseat driver listenin' in," Julie said.

  Mamie had proven to be a good friend the past weeks. She had made a special trip to see Annie with the news that Lizzy had been grounded to her yard for a week and couldn't ride her pony for a whole month—and never back down to Annie's house. Annie had been fine with it until Friday when school let out and then the pouting began. She missed Lizzy and Chuck, and why couldn't they just call their parents and see if they could come for a play day at her house? The Saturday night rodeo was a nice diversion to help her get through the weekend.

  Julie hadn't been too sure about what to wear to the shindig. When she thought about a rodeo she pictured women in jeans and shirts with pearl snaps and boots. She had the jeans. A tank top with sequins scattered on the neckline had to work for the shirt. The only boots she had were the rubber ones she slipped over her high heeled shoes when it rained. She had put on her sandals. Two out of three wasn't bad.

  Annie was going to see the horses and the bulls and she would have worn a Cinderella gown if Julie would have let her. Julie talked her into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt with Ariel on it, and sandals.

  Mamie wore jeans, boots, and a pearl-snapped sleeve less shirt. Three out of three. Did that mean she went home with the cowboy that night? Julie didn't care if she did. She'd had her one night of being a wanton woman. It had netted her a child that she wanted desperately, but she'd be hung from the tall limb of a Texas pecan tree with a worn out rope before she went in for a repeat performance of that night.

  "Anyone I know going to be here?" she asked Mamie cautiously.

  "Just everyone in the whole area who likes rodeos," she said.

  Julie bit her lip to keep back the groan. That meant Griffin for sure. He was a rancher, and they did like cows and bullshit, didn't they?

  Annie spotted Lizzy before she was even out of the car and began to tug on Julie's hand. Julie looked up and saw Lizzy dragging an older lady across the parking lot toward them. Both little girls stopped a foot from each other, smiles on their faces and their eyes all aglitter. They reached out at the same time and laced their fingers together. From that point, there was no separating them.

  The lady held out her hand. "I am Marita. I have been keeping house at the Lucky Clover since before the twins were born. I take care of Lizzy. You must be Annie's mother. Her name comes up about every five seconds at the ranch."

  Her handshake was firm.

  "I'm Julie Donavan. It's the same at my house. Lizzy and Chuck are my daughter's new best friends."

  "Nana Rita, Miss Julie is the white trash Daddy told you about. I want to grow up to be just like her," Lizzy said in awe.

  Mamie laughed until she got the hiccups.

  Julie blushed.

  Marita just smiled. "The little ones don't know what they are saying. Forgive her."

  "Don't worry about it. Kids just repeat what they hear at that age. She doesn't even know what those words mean," Julie said.

  "Can we sit together, please, Nana Rita, please, please, please?" Lizzy begged.

  "We will all sit together if that's all right with Miss Julie and Miss Mamie," Marita looked at Annie. The child was the image of her father, Graham. His face had always been a bit more round than Griffin's and he'd been just a shade shorter. Wait until Deborah Luckadeau found out there was a remnant of her son still on the earth. She'd be ecstatic.

  "Of course, it's all right. Is Griff riding tonight?" Mamie asked.

  They found seats near the top at the far end for the three adults. The two little girls sat right in front of them.

  "If there's the smell of a bull ride within fifty miles, Griffin will be there. He's already drawn his number and got the meanest, blackest bull I've ever seen. Horns out to here"—Marita measured as far as her hands would reach—"and evil in his eyes."

  "Where's Carl?" Mamie asked.

  "Right down there with him. Egging him on. Making sure he has his lucky clover charm pinned to his hat," Marita said.

  "My daddy can stay on a bull eight seconds. That's a long time," Lizzy bragged to Annie.

  "Is eight seconds a long, long time?" Annie asked.

  Julie wished she could find a big black cave, drag Annie in it with her, and pull a rock over the entrance. She'd have found an excuse or a reason not to go to the rodeo if she'd known Griffin was riding. She eyed Mamie from the corner of her eye. Was she friend or foe? A lamb or a wolf dressed in lamb's clothing?

  The announcer gave the name of the first rider and the bull, and a chute opened. Julie had seen bull riding on television when she passed through the living room and her father was channel surfing. She wasn't totally ignorant when it came to the sport, but nothing prepared her for the excitement. The smell, the dust, the clowns, the cheering all around her, Annie's eyes and Lizzy's shouts; they all combined to make her heart pump faster than it had since the fight with Griffin and Rachel. Julie looked around but she couldn't spot the hussy.

  "And now, riding old Lucifer himself, the black bull straight from the back forty acres of hell, is Griffin Luckadeau, owner and operator of the Lucky Clover Ranch. Griffin is our three-year winner in the bull riding contest. Let 'er rip, boys."

  Lucifer came out of the chute with his head down and his back feet off the ground. The rider and the bull were one as he bucked and Griffin expertly rode the motion. One second seemed like eternity to Julie as she watched Griffin's hat go sailing out into the dust. The next second she noticed that his white streak flopped back and forth as the bull tried to disengage him from his back. By the third second Julie had stopped breathing. The fourth, she didn't even hear the girls jumping up and down and screaming for him to stay with it. Fifth, sixth and seventh, she couldn't even blink.

  It was as if her life flashed before her in those eight seconds. She didn't want Griffin to die—but was she attracted to him because he looked so much like his brother that it was unreal, or was it for himself? She wanted him to win the contest because he was a good father and a hell of a bull rider. One part of her wanted to run away from the whole state of Texas, maybe get lost in the backwoods of Montana. The other half was glued to the seat until the ride was finished, all the while thinking about that old song that said something about not calling him a cowboy until you'd seen him ride. Whew! If Griffin was as good in bed as he was on that bull then… she made herself stop at that point and watch the last second of the ride.

  "And that's it, ladies and gentlemen, Griffin Luckadeau has stayed with it eight seconds. How many of you up there in the stands think he superglued his sorry old cowboy hind end to that bull? We'll see how many points he's accumulated in a few minutes. Scores are coming in. Looks like Luckadeau has a score of 85 points. That'll be a hard score to beat but it can be done. Next up is…"

  Julie managed to suck enough air into her lungs to keep herself from fainting. "Men! They're beyond stupid. His brain must have been damaged at birth."

  Mamie nudged her arm. "But when that bull was twistin', spinnin' and swervin' your old heart stopped for a while, didn't it?"

  "Crazy damned world, ain't it? We know they're stupid but it excites us when we watch something like that," Marita said. "No wonder so many women chase after the rodeo like…" She stopped dead when she noticed both little girls looking up at her and taking in every single word.

  "Did Daddy win?" Lizzy asked.

  "He's got the most points right now. We'll have to see if anyone makes more," Marita answered.

  "That bull had big old horns. Does the one me and you r
ide have horns that big and where did you get them boots?" Annie asked Lizzy. "I want a pair just like them."

  "Me and you don't get to ride bulls. Daddy said I could ride the sheep but I didn't want to. Tim and Richie, that's my cousins, they ride the mutton," Lizzy said.

  "What's a mutton and does it have horns?" Annie asked.

  "It's a sheep and no, it don't have horns and you didn't live on a ranch, did you?" Lizzy asked.

  "I grew up at Grammy's house, and, Momma, is Grammy's house a ranch?" Annie turned around.

  "No, it's in town. We don't know much about ranches or rodeos," Julie answered. Her eyes were glued to the cowboy with the white streak in his hair coming up the bleachers straight toward them. Was she never to have a peaceful moment again? Everywhere she went, there he was, his scowl reminding her that he trusted a Texas rattler more than he ever would her.

  "Well, where did you get them boots?" Annie asked again.

  Lizzy held her foot up and yelled when Griffin was halfway up the stands. "Daddy, Annie needs some boots like me. Where did we buy these boots?"

  "At the Cavender's store in Nocona," Griffin said.

  Good Lord, what was that woman doing at the rodeo and why was she sitting with Marita and Lizzy? Had the whole world gone mad? He slapped his leg with his dusty cowboy hat, more out of anger than to knock the arena dust from it. Tonight she looked like a rodeo woman in her tight-fitting jeans and her hair all fixed. All she needed was a pair of boots and she'd fit right into the scene. He didn't want to find her attractive—it would make her job of fleecing him too easy—but his eyes wouldn't look away from her sitting there with the two little girls. Life sure had gotten complicated in the past few weeks.

  Mamie scooted away from Julie, making a space between them. "We'll make room for you to sit. You did good out there. Bet nobody can beat that score."

  Griffin had two choices: sit down or refuse to sit beside the woman. For the latter Marita would have his head on a paper plate for being rude, so that actually left no choice at all.

  His arm brushed against Julie's when he sat down and his stomach knotted up worse than when the chute opened for the bull ride. "Hello," he said stiffly.

  Julie pulled her arm tighter to her side. She had to stop letting her mind wander to forbidden places because his touch was so damn hot. "Hello, Mr. Luckadeau. Just to set things straight, I called the courthouse and there's no restraining order now. Lizzy can come over any time she wants."

  "Thank you."

  "You are welcome."

  "Now, see there, that didn't kill either of you," Mamie said.

  Julie shot her a dirty look. Mamie had known all along that Griffin was riding and probably told Marita to wait for them. She knew the story of what had happened when Lizzy ran away, so why had she put her new friend in such a pickle?

  Griffin sat erect, his back straight and his arms folded across his chest. She looked a damn sight better than she had the last time he saw her. She'd tamed that kinky red hair. Her waist was small, her hips rounded, and she filled out the top of that knit shirt really well. He'd never been attracted to small women or red-haired ones before. That was Graham's type; not his. But she smelled really good and when his arm touched hers the heat that radi ated between them was hotter than the weather by far. He flat out couldn't understand why he'd lost control of his own body. Why did he ache for something that wasn't possible? And why the hell couldn't she stay on her five acres and stop showing up at every function he attended? There was no way she was in Saint Jo because of the small-town charm. She had a reason—she was a woman and they were shrewd, conniving witches out for what they could get.

  Julie watched the next three bull riders but her heart didn't beat as wildly as it did when Griffin sat on top of nearly two tons of mean bull. Though she kept her eyes straight ahead she was more interested in keeping at least an inch of space between any of her body parts and Griffin's. If he touched her again, she was afraid she'd either swoon like a heroine in a romance book or else go up in white hot flames. He smelled like aftershave, mint gum, and sweat, the combination a bit too heady for her, and when his arm touched hers it created a warm gushy feeling down deep in her gut.

  She determined that she wouldn't lose control again, especially with a man who had already deemed her nothing but white trash. She'd finish out the year at the school and then move on. That would be the goal that kept her from giving in to the desire to drag him off to the nearest motel room and see if he really was a cowboy in every sense of the word.

  "Y'all stayin' around for the dance?" Mamie asked Marita.

  "Honey, that's why I come to this thing. Carl and I love to dance. We'll be here until the last song is sung or there's no more leather on the soles of our boots. You?"

  "Oh, yes, ma'am. We surely will," Mamie said.

  Julie wilted. She'd had no idea there was a dance after the rodeo or she would have brought her own vehicle. Now she had to stay or it would inconve nience Mamie.

  "Yippee!" Lizzy yelled. "Annie, we get to stay for the dance. You know how to two-step? I do and I'll teach you."

  They put their heads together, whispering back and forth. Blood was thicker than water, Julie thought as she tried to catch what they were saying, but it was impos sible above the din of the crowd. That plus another bull came out of the chute, all four feet off the ground.

  Griffin moaned.

  "What's your problem?" She flipped around and stared at him. By damn, he had no right to get mad because she was staying for a dance.

  "Four feet off the dirt. That's extra points. If he stays on eight seconds, he could beat my time."

  "Poor baby," she said.

  "Don't you take that tone with me," he said.

  "And so the peace ends," Mamie said.

  He pointed his finger at Mamie. "You stay out of this, Mamie Pickett."

  Mamie slapped it away.

  "The little girls are behaving better than you two. Am I going to have to put you in a corner?" Marita teased.

  Julie almost blushed but got it under control.

  Griffin grunted and went back to watching the ride.

  When it was all said and done and the points tallied up, he lost his three-year title to a nineteen-year-old boy from Muenster and gave it up with a wave of his hat from the stands. The kid beat him by one point and that was only because the bull had had all four feet straight up. It didn't keep Griffin from feeling old at twenty-eight.

  Lizzy reached back and patted him on the leg. "It's all right, Daddy. You done good."

  Annie patted him on the other one. "Yep, you done good."

  He looked at Julie.

  "Hey, cowboy, I don't know nothing about bulls or riding them. If that boy beat you by only one point, I'd say you're doing good for your age," she said.

  "Ouch!"

  "Well, how old are you?" she asked.

  "Twenty-eight, last birthday," he said.

  She blushed. She'd had no idea six years ago that Graham had been that much younger than she was. Good grief, he had been just a year past the legal age to buy beer. And here she was entertaining notions of jumping Griffin Luckadeau's bones. Well, that just ended that idiotic idea. He was six years younger than she was; not jail bait, but too damned young.

  "Just a baby," she muttered.

  "And how old are you?" he asked.

  "You don't ask a woman that," Marita said.

  "Forty?" he asked.

  "Ouch!" she said.

  "Do you need a Band-Aid, Momma?" Annie asked.

  "No, I'm fine," Julie said.

  When the rodeo ended, the band set up and the dance began. Marita left Lizzy in Griffin's care and went to find Carl to dance with her. Mamie told Julie she'd meet her at the car when the last song ended and disappeared into the crowd.

  "I want to dance, Daddy, and you can dance the first one with me and Annie both," Lizzy said.

  "It's a deal. You going to sit up here and watch, or dance?" he asked Julie.

  "O
h, honey, I'm not into spectator sports except bull riding. I'm a participator. I'm dancing. It'll be my favorite part of the night," Julie said. Griffin Luckadeau wasn't about to get one step ahead of her, not even if she had to lie. Forty, indeed!

  "All four of us on the first dance! Come on, Annie." Lizzy grabbed her hand and they ran down the bleachers like little mountain goats headed for a watering hole.

  The band geared up with Gretchen Wilson's "Redneck Woman."

  "Seems fitting," Julie said, as they walked up to the girls on the arena floor.

  Annie and Lizzy each grabbed one of her hands and one of Griffin's and began to wiggle and dance, moving as though they had no bones in their little bodies and giggling all the while. Julie stood to one side and moved with the beat of the music but spent more time laughing at the girls than she did actually dancing.