by Jade Allen
The gate suddenly crashed open and the giant red bull leapt into the arena. It did a hard twist in mid-air and slammed to the ground with a bone-breaking thud. Its hooves barely hit the dirt before it was dancing again, jumping and twisting and kicking its hind legs out as hard as it could. Dean sat astride the bull with perfect form, his spine straight and left arm extended high over his head.
“Three...four...five…” Marisol counted under her breath, fingers clutching the chain link fence. Until she started watching Dean, she never understood how long eight seconds truly lasted. But Dean’s grip was strong, and though the bull did its best to fling him away, the buzzer sounded to the sound of the crowd roaring its approval of the ride. Marisol erupted into loud cheers, clapping and shouting Dean’s name with the rest of them.
She was so excited for Dean that it took her a moment to realize that something wasn’t right. Her father darted out and got hold of the rope around the bull’s girth, but even after the bull stopped kicking, Dean wasn’t jumping free.
“Uh oh, it looks like our cowboy is in a little bit of trouble. Let’s all give a big cheer or our bull fighter Ernie! Cheer loud and help him get Dean out of there.”
Marisol swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. The bull kicked around, giving her a view of the left side where Dean’s leg was tangled in the rope. The animal was beyond furious now, ignoring all of Ernie’s attempts to distract it while his partner, Burt, dodged forward to get Dean untangled.
“Looks like our cowboy is stuck, folks. Give him another cheer! Let him know we’re here for him!” Rocky’s job was to keep talking, keep the crowd upbeat while the professionals got the bull under control, but Marisol wished he would shut up. She’d seen this same thing countless times and she knew as long as her father was in the arena, the cowboys would be safe, but Dean wasn’t like the other cowboys. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t even breathe, until the rope came free and Dean flung himself away from the raging bull.
The bull fighters moved quickly, Burt putting himself between Dean and the bull, and Ernie acting as human bait, taunting the bull until it charged him. Ernie dove out of the way at the last second, but the bull kept running right on back to its pen.
“Burt and Ernie, everybody! And let’s give it up for our young cowboy, Dean Longstrider, who just got a score of 94 from our judges. Not only the best ride of the night, this is the best ride of the whole event! He’s one smiling cowboy tonight, folks.”
Dean took off his hat, walking in a small circle, and waved to the cheering crowd. As he turned towards her, she jumped up and down, waving and cheering. She didn’t think he would see her, but his smile widened and then he was running out of the arena, and Rocky was inviting everybody to remain in their seats for the fireworks show.
That was Marisol’s signal to return to the food truck where her mother, Anna, was just locking up.
“Mari, go find your father. His ribs were bothering him all day and he probably needs your help.”
“Yes, Mama.”
She bolted before the fireworks ended, making it all the way to the pens before the crowd began to disperse. She didn’t see her father anywhere, but she did spot Dean and his brothers, Ralph and Waldo. Unsurprisingly, he was surrounded by a crowd of fans, pushing for his autograph. “It’s not worth much now,” she heard one of the cowboys say, “but it may be worth a cup of coffee in a few years.”
Most of the fans were young men—kids dreaming of the day they could climb on top of the biggest, meanest beast they could find—but not all of them. Ralph and Waldo each had their arm around a pretty cowgirl, and as Marisol approached, Dean mimicked them, pulling a statuesque cowgirl close to his side.
Marisol stopped in her tracks, her mouth going dry. Of course she knew that there were plenty of girls who made it a habit to get as close to the cowboys as possible. Her mother had names for those girls, and none of them were very nice. It shouldn’t be a surprise to her that Dean got along with those girls. She hesitated, unsure if she should congratulate him as planned or scurry off before he noticed her to find her father.
Deciding on the latter, she half-turned, but Dean stopped her with a shout, “Hey! Marisol!”
She turned back to him, unable to stop her smile as he hurried over to her. “Hey, I was just about to come looking for you,” he said, pulling her into a quick hug.
“I can’t stay, I just wanted to say congratulations. That was a hell of a ride.”
“Did you see it?”
“Of course. You know I never miss seeing you ride.”
“What did you think?”
Marisol laughed. “I think you won twenty thousand dollars!”
“Who’s your little friend, Dean?” The blonde took Dean by the arm and smiled down at Marisol.
“Oh, this is Marisol. She’s Ernie’s daughter and she probably knows more about riding bulls than anybody else around here. Everybody wants to know what my secret is.” He nodded at her, his smile big enough and warm enough to make her forget the interloper for a moment. “Mari, this is Cady. She’s an old friend from way back.”
Marisol offered her hand, even as her stomach twisted into a hot knot. “It’s nice to meet you, Cady.”
“Mari! Come and help your old man.” Ernesto leaned heavily on the stock gate and even from a distance of twenty feet, she could see him favoring his right side. She threw a quick farewell to Dean and happily took advantage of the excuse to get away from him and his old friend.
“We need to get these ribs wrapped,” Marisol said as she draped his arm over her shoulders. Almost as tall as her father and weighing nearly twice as much as his beanpole frame, it wasn’t difficult to support him across the arena. She couldn’t resist looking over her shoulder to catch one final glimpse, but Dean already had his back turned to her, his arm comfortably around Cady’s petite waist.
She didn’t think about Cady again until much later that night, once she was tucked in her own bed. Her mind was free to wander, and it went back to Dean and Cady again and again. It did no good to compare herself to the other woman, but she couldn’t help but note all the ways they were direct opposites. Cady was tall, probably nearly six feet, and willowy with a flawless complexion and clear blue eyes. Marisol was a good six inches shorter and probably thirty inches more around. Her muddy brown eyes didn’t twinkle like Cady’s, and her curly brown hair was usually tangled, not straight and shiny.
Marisol rubbed her hands down her breasts and over her plump stomach and wide hips. She’d started filling out at an early age, and by the time she hit high school, her body was shaped by natural, generous curves and the many long hours she worked with her parents, traveling from rodeo to rodeo. If Dean liked girls like Cady, it was no wonder that he never tried to be more than just Marisol’s friend.
Not that her parents would ever allow her to be more than Dean’s friend. They had a hard enough time letting her talk to him about bulls and his rides. “He might know how to ride a bull, but never forget he’s a Longstrider,” her mom had told her, more than once. He hadn’t only inherited his uncle’s legacy as a bull rider, but his father’s legacy as a bear shifter. Nobody said the words out loud, but it was a well-known secret; a secret Marisol longed to ask him about nearly every single day. Curiosity ate at her. How often did he shift? What was it like? Were his brothers bears as well?
But those questions joined the rest in the pile of forbidden inquiries that also included Do you ever think about kissing me? and Would you like to go for a drive?
Her phone buzzed, letting her know a text had arrived. Her curious frowned transformed into a smile when she saw Dean’s name.
R U busy tomorrow night?
She quickly typed out her response. No plans after the rodeo.
Grab a bite with me?
Yes.
Great. Get some sleep, beautiful.
She smiled, her jealousy over Cady forgotten. Maybe she couldn’t be his girl, but his friendship still meant a lot to her. She
would miss him when he moved up to the pro circuit. Good night, cowboy.
****
“Who are you texting?” Ralph asked.
“Nobody.”
“Oh, I hoped it was Cady.”
“Why?” Dean asked, putting his phone back in his pocket and looking away so his younger brother wouldn’t see his small smile. He’d been afraid Marisol wouldn’t respond to his text, and his heart jumped with relief when her message came so quickly. “What did you want me to say to Cady?”
“I don’t know, maybe you could have apologized for being so rude? Or invite her and her friends to join us?”
“You have her number. Why don’t you invite her and her friends out?”
Ralph rolled his eyes. “Because she doesn’t want to hear from me, dipshit. She wants to hear from you.”
“Look, if you want to hook up with one of her friends, you should have got her number. Or ask Cady for it. I don’t have to be involved.”
Ralph shook his head. “Man, I don’t get you. You just win the biggest purse of your life, you have a beautiful woman who drove in all the way from Utah to see you, and you don’t even want to have a celebratory beer. It’s all, ‘Get your shit together, boys, time to turn in.’ ”
“Winning one purse doesn’t mean anything changes.”
“Are you kidding me? Everything has changed, man!” Waldo lifted his head from the backseat of the trailer “We’re freaking rich!”
“We? Did you ride that bull?”
“No.”
“Did you pay my entrance fee?”
“No.” Waldo admitted.
“Then shut the hell up. There’s no we here. Besides, twenty thousand isn’t a lot. It’s enough to keep this outfit going for another few months, if we’re lucky. If you two want to party, do it on your own dime and your own time, got it?”
“Got it,” they grumbled as one.
“Good,” Dean said, leaning forward to turn up the radio. His fingers itched to pull out a cigarette, even though he hadn’t smoked in over a year, and his toes tapped with nervous energy he couldn’t quite quell. He would never give his younger brother the satisfaction of saying so, but Ralph had been right about celebrating. After that kind of ride and that kind of purse, it made perfect sense for him to go out and blow off a little steam. Cady would have been happy to join him in that endeavor, but the problem was that he wasn’t very interested in her.
He took his phone out of his pocket and fiddled with the screen, bringing up the last exchange with Marisol. His brothers didn’t understand the friendship he’d struck up with the younger woman, and they certainly wouldn’t understand the sharp pang of disappointment he’d felt when she walked away, leaving him alone with Cady. He had no desire to explain himself to them, but if he did, he might point out that she was one of the brightest people he ever met, and certainly the kindest. And goddamn, that girl knew her bulls.
What he couldn’t explain to them or to himself was why he would rather talk to her about bulls than take Cady to bed. What he didn’t even want to consider was everything else he wanted to do with Marisol—well, he wanted to consider it, but he didn’t dare. Not only was her friendship too great for him to risk, but her father’s opinion mattered too much. Ernie was a good man and a hell of a good bull fighter, and would do his job to the best of his abilities. But sometimes he was all that stood between Dean and 2000 pounds of raging death, and so Dean thought it best to stay in the man’s good graces and leave his daughter alone.
And so he treated Marisol as gently and courteously as he would treat his own sister. Fortunately, she didn’t appear to have any inclination to see him as more than just her brother, so it was easy to keep his distance.
He flipped through his phone and found the one picture he had of her. She stood in her food truck, smiling broadly and waving at him. He hadn’t given it any real thought at the time. He had his phone in his hand and felt the impulse to snap a photo. Maybe because she looked so happy to see him. Her face was lit with an expression of joy so warm that it always kindled something in his chest. Nobody else had ever made him feel that good.
Dean tucked his phone away and pulled his hat low over his eyes. He kept the image of her smile in front of him as he slipped into sleep.
****
Cody, Wyoming was a small town. Even in the summer, when the borders swelled with cowboys and rodeo fans and tourists passing to and from Yellowstone, the town never exceeded a population of five thousand. Word spread quickly in a town that size, and it spread like wildfire on a windy August afternoon when that word included mention of an animal attack.
A bear attack, Ernesto had said.
“Are they sure it was a bear?” Marisol asked, her breakfast forgotten.
“Well, sweetheart, there’s no mistaking a bear attack.”
“But that close to town? Bears don’t come this close, do they?”
“Only the ones who already live here,” Anna said.
“Now, Anna, there’s no evidence—”
“Evidence? That man was killed only a mile from our home, and you’re talking about evidence?”
“Yes,” Ernesto said patiently, eating his huevos rancheros as though they were discussing their daily business. Watching him prompted Marisol to pick up her fork and she did her best to mimic him, but her appetite was gone. “I am talking about evidence because I need that to make my judgement.”
“Mari, your curfew is eight until this bear is found,” her mother announced.
“Eight? But that means I can’t work the truck. And I’ll miss the bulls.”
“Good. You spend too much time at the rodeo grounds. You should be spending more time studying.”
Marisol looked to her father, but the slight shake of his head told her to cede the battle for now. If she pushed, Anna was likely to ban her from the rodeo entirely—and that would include her friendship with a certain amateur bull rider. They finished their breakfast in tense silence, Mari silently counting down the seconds until she could clean the dishes and flee the house. As soon as she stepped outside, she made a beeline for her best friend’s house. Her father was a sheriff’s deputy, and she most certainly had the inside scoop.
“It’s a bear shifter,” Rachel announced. “No doubt about it.”
“Did your dad say that?”
“Yes, that’s how they’re handling the investigation.”
“But if it’s a shifter, wouldn’t that be murder?”
Rachel shrugged. “Sure, if they could prove motive. Most likely the bear is looking at a manslaughter charge.”
“How do they know it was a shifter and not just a regular bear?” Marisol pressed. As far as she knew, there was only one family of shifters in Cody.
“Well, don’t mention this to anybody because they didn’t tell this to the press, but there were footprints.”
“Footprints?”
“Yep, two sets of human tracks and one set of bear tracks.”
“So maybe there was another victim?”
Rachel shook her head. “No, two people arrived. It looks like one of them turned into a bear and the other one died. And trust me, Marisol, you don’t want to know any more about how that happened.”
“Was it grisly?”
“Uh, yeah, you could say that.”
It might have been morbid, but Marisol’s curiosity was piqued. “Come on, Rachel, you can tell me. I can take it.”
“Well, this shifter, whoever he is, is hungry. Very hungry. Hungry enough that my dad and the sheriff both think he’ll attack again.”
“Don’t tell my mom that. She’ll never let me leave the house.” Marisol wanted to press for more details, but Rachel looked a little green. “I have to be home by eight tonight.”
“You have a curfew?”
“I do now.”
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it, girl. I didn’t even pay attention to curfews back when we were fifteen.”
“They let me live there rent free all
summer, they’re paying for my school, and my mom only did it because she’s afraid. Who can blame her? It just sucks, though.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Dean asked me to meet him tonight after the rodeo.”
Mention of Dean brought an interested light to Rachel’s eye. “Oh, your handsome cowboy. How is he?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Is tonight the night?”
“He’s great. He won the purse last night. And tonight is not ‘the night’ because I have a curfew at eight, remember?”
“Sneak out,” Rachel said flatly.
“I can’t sneak out. If Mom catches me, she’ll flip her lid.”
“Okay, you must sneak out. Sneak being the operative word. Just don’t get caught.”
Rachel was looking at her like it was the most obvious choice in the world. “Why must I sneak out?”
“He wants to hook up with you, you dummy!”
“Hook up?” Marisol shook her head. “No, he’s just...we’re just friends. We meet after the rodeo all the time. It’s no big deal.”
“If it’s no big deal, why are you so disappointed?”
“Because maybe I want it to be a hook up.” Marisol wouldn’t have admitted it to anybody else, but Rachel had been her best friend since the girls were twelve. Over the past ten years, they shared every dream, confided every secret. “He’s so hot, Rach. And sweet. And talented. And...big.” She sighed. “But he just likes to talk to me about bulls.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Grab his dick and tell him you’d rather talk about that.”
Marisol snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think that’ll go well.”
“It’ll go great. How did he look when he asked you to meet him?”
“I don’t know. He texted me last night.”
“When? Before or after you went to bed?”
“After.”
Rachel smiled. “Oh, honey, this is a hookup. I don’t care what time your curfew is, if you want this man, you can’t blow him off tonight.”