by Nancy M Bell
Laying down the bridle she was soaping, Michelle fished out the bag with her lunch form behind the bale. Greasy burger and fries from the midway concessions. She grinned, nothing better. Wolfing it down, she finished with the tack. If she were smart she’d try and get some rest before things picked up again in preparation for the evening races. Michelle was too keyed up to rest so she occupied herself with brushing a couple of the younger horses and then wandered down the shed row to gossip with one of the driver’s wives that she knew.
Rolly showed up around two-thirty. The first heat was scheduled for five in the afternoon. Before long the activity in the backstretch increased as more and more outfits started to gear up for the evening’s performance. Michelle helped Rolly go over the wagon one more time, checking the wheel hubs and the wagon tongue connection to the bed of the chuck.
“We’re not til the fifth heat so we’ve got a bit of time.” The short-legged cowboy leaned against the side of the wagon and stretched out his back. “Man, I swear I feel like a hundred years old sometimes.”
“All that clean livin’ you do,” Michelle teased him. “Try hittin’ the sack before three am.”
“No sense livin’ if you’re not really livin’.” He grinned at her, removed his hat and scrubbed his face before replacing it.
“You got that flak jacket your boyfriend made me promise to make you wear?”
“Awe, c’mon Rolly. You aren’t really gonna make me wear that thing are you?” Michelle grimaced. It was bad enough being a rookie without wearing a flak jacket like some kid in the mutton busting.
“Bull riders wear ‘em, as well you know.” He gave her the evil eye.
“Yeah, yeah. But I’m not ridin’ a bull.” She gave up protesting when he shook his head.
“No jacket, no outriding. A promise is a promise.”
“Fine.” She huffed her disapproval.
Suddenly the time flew by. The wagons for the first heat rattled out onto the track, followed by the klaxon horn and the roar of the crowd. The four wagons rolled down the backstretch throwing up clods of dirt. They rounded the far turn three wide across the track.
“The louder you cheer, the sooner they get here,” Les McIntyre exhorted the crowd.
Michelle blocked out the extraneous noise while she concentrated on helping to hook the wheel team and then the leaders. The big bay right wheeler snorted and tossed his head. She knew he liked to jump ahead and get the wagon by the barrel before the leaders turned. Hank was already saddled and waiting in his stall. She ran to get him and followed Hal out onto the groomed track.
Her heart pounded so hard it was difficult to breathe. She registered the brightly coloured crowd as a single blur as they entered the infield. It was a lot more crowded with the other three wagons and their outriders taking their practice turns on the barrels. The announcer introduced each wagon and the canvas sponsor. Michelle couldn’t remember who Rolly’s sponsor was. It doesn’t matter. Concentrate. Her knees almost gave way when she vaulted off Hank and took her place at the back of the wagon.
“Ready to cast your fate to the figure eight?” Rolly glanced back to be sure she was in place. His breath came fast and his eyes gleamed with excitement.
She didn’t have a chance to respond as the horn blared and together they threw the stove into the bed of the wagon. The roar of the crowd was drowned out by the rattle of four wagons and the pounding of sixteen horses as they negotiated the tight turns around the barrels. Michelle made a pony express mount onto the rangy chestnut and managed to get him around the barrels before they were out and into the first turn. The thin white jacket that identified her as the wagon on the number one barrel’s outrider snapped in the wind. She leaned low over the horse’s neck and whooped for the sheer joy of riding at break neck speed alongside the wagons. Careful to stay clear of the wagons she kept an eye on where Rolly was placed in the crush of horses as they rounded the turn and lengthened out down the back stretch. The drivers jockeyed for position, some trying to find room to snug in to the rail Rolly had his team running just off the rail and in front of the pack. To her left, Hal was letting his horse run and sitting still for the moment. They needed to stay close to their wagon, crossing the finish line without being within 150 feet of the wagon was a one second penalty. It might not seem like much but when races were often by tenth of a second and the aggregate at the end of a meet could result in a big pay day, one second could be the difference between first and tenth place.
The voices of the drivers rose in a crescendo as they rounded the third turn and ran for home. They slapped the lines on the horses’ back to encourage them. It was more excitement on the driver’s part as the horses were only too happy to run at top speed. She moved Hank out away from a wagon that was going wide in an attempt to catch Rolly at the wire. The horse responded when she leaned lower and touched him with the crop she pulled out of her boot. He didn’t need any more encouragement, the horse lowered himself and stretched out into a longer stride. The announcer’s voice was lost in the screams of the crowd and thunder of the hooves. Michelle swept under the wire and stood in her stirrups, convincing Hank the race was over and he needed to slow down. He broke into a trot as Rolly slowed the wagon team and turned them back to parade in front of the grandstand. Clay’s friends leaped into the back of the wagon and took the lines from him. The group of outriders followed the four wagons back into the outfield and then saluted the crowd as they left.
Back at the barns, Michelle didn’t have any time to reflect on her first race. The steaming wagon horses needed to be unharnessed and washed down, then walked until they cooled off. Likewise for the outrider horses. Some of the men were outriding for more than one outfit. She peeled off the white jacket and handed it to the track official who would pass it to the next rider. Hal and Clay disappeared to collect their mounts for the following heat and Michelle took care of their horses as well as her own.
She finished in time to watch the last heat of the night. She whooped with the rest as Jason’s and Troy’s team swept past the finish line neck and neck. Later that night she joined the party, sitting on hay bales in front of the stalls, laughing and talking with the close knit community. It felt good to be part of the comradery again. She hadn’t realized how much she missed this. When she was little she used to sit on Dad’s knee until she fell asleep, long before the festivities wound down. He’d be proud of her, following the family tradition of wagon racing. The fact he’d died after being thrown from his wagon when the team beside his went down had taken her away from the sport. Gramma and Grampa didn’t want to be around it and Michelle had only been eight at the time. Over the years she’d forgotten the closeness of the chuck wagon community.
The rest of the meet flew by, the thrill of racing with the wagons increased with each ride. She could well understand how addicting the experience was. Just about anything else paled in comparison. Cale might not be too thrilled, but Michelle thrived on walking that thin line between triumph and disaster. She called him every night after the races to let him know how they were doing and how much she missed him.
Michelle tacked up a rangy grey gelding in preparation for the last night of the meet. They were racing in the championship heat. Her hands fumbled with the cinch strap. There was a lot of money riding on this race. She’d already made four hundred from the last four nights and Rolly promised bonus money if they won it all. Spud was healing, but Cale wanted him to have more shock wave treatments. He was worried the gelding might need surgery to repair the ligament damage. More money she didn’t have at the moment. It was fine for Doc and Cale to say not to worry, Michelle was brought up to pay her own way. She hated taking money from anyone, even Doc and Cale.
“Chelly, let’s go,” Hal called as Rolly’s wagon rattled down the shed row on the way to the track.
“Coming,” she answered and brought the big horse out vaulting into the saddle as soon as he was clear of the door. The gelding snorted and reared. She put her heels into h
im and sent him forward. “Settle down you jack ass,” she hissed at him. “Save it for the track.”
She had her hands full with him in the infield. He pushed into her with his chest, swiveling his head, eyes wide and nostrils flared, as he stared at the crowd. He jerked her arm and stepped on her foot at the same time the horn went. “Bastard,” she cursed. Thankfully, she managed to keep hold of the stove and it landed in the wagon bed. The grey reared again and she wasted precious time to haul him down, no sooner were his front feet on the dirt than she threw herself onto this back. Barely in control she managed the figure eight, her knee brushed a barrel but it stayed upright. Then they were tearing down the track chasing the wagons and outriders who had beaten her out of the infield. Michelle gave him his head and rode low over his neck to make up time. Near the end of the back stretch she pulled even with Hal. Rolly was three wide across the track ahead of them taking the long way around the track. I hope they have enough gas left for the home stretch. They pounded around the last turn and headed for home. Jordie’s team on the rail seemed to be pulling ahead a bit. It was hard to tell with the dirt thrown up the hooves in front of her. She pulled the grey a bit wider and let him out a notch. She couldn’t pass her wagon, but she sure wasn’t gonna be a late outrider. She glanced over her shoulder Hal was a half a length behind her. Looking good! They swept past the finish and she concentrated on getting the grey lunkhead slowed down.
“Did we win?” She barely had the breath to talk.
Hal shrugged as he cantered beside her. She cuffed the grey gelding on the neck as he snapped his teeth at Hal’s mount.
“Where’d he find this thing? He’s fast as greased lightning, but what a pig.”
“Don’t know. I think he traded something for him. We’ll see how he works out.” Hal eased his horse to a trot.
They joined the parade past the grandstand. Rolly finished second by a nose. Still good money, but the bonus would have been better if they’d won.
She related it all to Cale later that night after the horses were cared for. They were packing up in the morning and heading for Saskatoon. No time for a quick visit home. Cale was understanding but she knew he wasn’t thrilled.
June was full of travel. After a less than stellar performance at Saskatoon they headed south to Medicine Hat, finally, in the middle of May, they pulled into the familiar High River Rodeo Grounds. Cale was waiting for her when the truck stopped behind the stands. Michelle jumped out of the cab into his arms.
“I have missed you so much.” She kissed him hard.
“I miss you too. It’s good to see you. Hey, Rolly.” Cale disengaged himself from her arms but kept a hold of her hand.
“Hey Cale. Thanks for lending me your lady here. She’s making a name for herself as an outrider. I’m mighty proud of her.”
“So am I.” He smiled down at her and her stomach flipped. Michelle couldn’t wait to get him alone. “Carrie’s on call so I’m all yours. What needs doing?”
“C’mon, you can help me set up the rope corrals and get the horses off the trailer.” Michelle pulled Cale along by the hand. “Rolly and the boys will set up the portable stalls under the roll out canopy. They’ll be done by the time we’re finished. Then they need to be fed and watered. But after that, I’m all yours,” she promised.
He tugged her to a halt and kissed her til her toes curled in her boots. “I’m holding you to that.” Cale grinned and pulled her pony tail. “Just show me what needs to be done.”
The extra pair of hands and the promise of spending time alone with Cale hurried the chores along. Michelle waved to the boys gathered shooting the breeze with a good supply of wobbly pops to keep them going. She grinned at the mildly ribald comments thrown her way.
“See you in the morning!”
“I miss you, Chelly.” Cale squeezed her hand.
“I miss you like crazy too. And the dogs and the horses and just being at the ranch. But, Cale, running with the chucks is better than I ever imagined it! It’s like…I don’t know how to describe it…it’s scary, but that’s what makes it so much fun. If that makes any sense.”
“Just don’t get too addicted to it. I don’t want to be chasing my wife all over hell’s half acre once we’re married.” He took his attention from the road for a moment to look at her.
“It’s not something I want to do forever.” She paused as an idea popped into her mind. “Unless I could be a driver. That would be so cool.” Michelle swivelled her body in the seat to face the driver. “Wow, wouldn’t that be something?”
“Think about the cost. Those wagons aren’t cheap, not to mention the horses and the gear.”
She sighed and subsided back into the seat. “I know, and the rigs to go down the road with. It was a nice pipe dream while it lasted.”
“How about you just enjoy it for now. The dogs will be glad to see you. Storm mopes around the house looking for you all the time.” Cale changed the subject.
“I can’t wait to see them. It’s nice to be home, even if it’s only for a couple of nights.”
She leaned forward as the truck came out of the dip in the road and the ranch came into sight. It was one of those gold and blue Alberta evenings when the slanting rays of the sun lit the prairie with a golden orange hue burning against the clear blue of the big sky. She glanced at Cale before returning her gaze to the land. “I don’t know why anyone would want to live anywhere else.”
“Except when it’s fifty below and the wind is blowing snow everywhere.” Cale grinned.
“Be serious. Even then it’s beautiful.” She laid a hand on his arm. “How’s Stacey doing? George must be back at work by now.”
“She doesn’t complain but I think she’s finding it a bit lonely. The Gleason boy comes by to help with the heavy stuff. Stacey’s learning to drive the big tractor but I think it scares the living daylights out of her,” Cale replied.
“At least she’s got some help. More than George ever did for me. Course I wasn’t sleeping with him either. Ewwww.” Michelle giggled. “Now there’s a mental picture that’ll put you off sex for a while.”
Cale parked by the house and pulled her into his arms. “It better not. I have plans for you, woman. Wicked plans.” His lips were warm and demanding on hers.
“Mental slate wiped clean,” she managed to say when they came up for air. “Do we need to do chores?”
“Nope, all taken care of. Rain is in the lower pasture, Spud’s still at the clinic though. I guess we should have stopped so you could see him tonight.”
“Not a chance. Once Mary got a hold of me we’d be there all night and the only person I want to see right now is you.” She kissed him again and got out of the truck. “C’mon, time’s a’wasting!” Michelle ran for the door.
Cale was right behind her and caught her around the waist. He swung her up into his arms and kicked the outer door open. “Not exactly our wedding night, but…” She silenced him with her lips, winding her arms around his neck.
He shoved open the inner door and set her down when the dogs swarmed around his legs. “Down, Puppy. Easy, Storm,” Cale attempted to calm the excited canines.
Michelle dropped to her knees and gathered them into her arms. The dogs wriggled and jockeyed for a better position eventually toppling her over onto her back with the two animals laying across her, licking wildly. “Okay, okay. I’m happy to see you too. Stop…Oh, yuck, stop that!” She got a hand free to wipe her face after Crazy Puppy slobbered on her, his tongue swiping across her mouth and nose. Taking the proffered hand she let Cale pull her to her feet. He used his thumb to remove some of the dog spit from her cheeks.
“Well, I’ve been fantasizing about licking you all over, I just wasn’t picturing the mutts doing the licking.” He grinned and pulled her close.
Heat flooded her body and she fitted her hips closer to his, smiling as she encountered his hardness. “I’ve got a few fantasies of my own to live out tonight. It’s been too long time since I saw you naked
as a jail bird.” She wriggled against him and giggled. Cale picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. Michelle squealed in mock protest and tormented him by running her hands over his butt. He careened off a wall in the hall.
“Quit it, Chelly. We’ll both be on the floor if you keep it up,” he warned.
She worked her hand down the back of his jeans and under his boxers, squeezing his bare butt cheek.
“Jesus, Michelle.” The words hissed between his teeth. “Two can play that game.” One hand grabbed her ass and then followed the back seam of her jeans into the heat between her thighs.
Cale bounced off the doorframe of the bedroom while her head swam with the delicious sensations his fingers were drawing from her flesh. He let her slide down the front of his body, both hands firmly on her butt. Turning, he fell back on the bed pulling her with him.
“Welcome home, Chelly.”
Chapter Thirteen
The High River meet was over way too soon for Michelle. The racing was exciting and way more than she had ever anticipated, but she missed being home with Cale. She lingered by the rig, savouring a last few minutes with him while the rest of the team loaded the last of the gear.
“I wish you weren’t going.” He removed her ball cap and brushed the loose strands of hair behind her ear.
“I know, me too. It’s only Ponoka, though. Maybe you can come up and spend a night or two?”
“Maybe. Carrie covered for me this weekend though and next week is the July long weekend. She probably has plans.”
“I know, I’m just being selfish. I won’t be able to get away long enough to come home. Try and come up and watch at least one night?”