Daddy's Virgin

by Claire Adams

  I giggled and glanced toward the ring, where people were starting to ride again. “I should quit distracting you, I guess.” But I was reluctant to pull away from him.

  “This’ll all be over soon,” Trethan told me, his hand coming up to brush back a lock of hair. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve already put down the best score of anyone, so as long as I can hang on to that lead, we’ll have that prize money in no time.”

  I took a deep breath and forced a brave smile onto my face. “You’re enjoying yourself, though, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” he said, seeming sincere. “I really, really am.”

  “I’m happy for you, then,” I told him. I kissed his cheek. “Go on. Make me proud.”

  “Thanks, darling,” Trethan said, going to line up for his second ride.

  I made my way back to where Dad sat in the stands. He put an arm around my shoulders as I sat beside him. “I know this can’t be easy for you to watch,” he said. “You’ve never really been a rodeo girl.”

  I shook my head. “It’s such a dangerous sport,” I said. “But I can’t tell him not to do it.”

  “You don’t think that he’d listen?” Dad asked, sounding curious.

  I frowned and shook my head again. “I think that he would listen,” I said. “But that’s just the thing. It wouldn’t be fair for me to ask him not to do this just because I’m nervous for him. He let me go off to college, even though it really hurt him to do so.”

  “I don’t think the situations are exactly comparable,” he said, shaking his head. “You going off to college may not have been the best thing for your relationship with Trethan, and he might have let that affect his life in negative ways, but you weren’t doing something dangerous or something that you might regret.”

  “You think I should tell him to stop doing this?” I asked in surprise.

  “I’m not saying that,” Dad said. “But if the two of you are really going to be together long-term, it sounds like there are a lot of conversations that need to happen at some point. Just a thought.”

  I ducked my head. “Yeah,” I sighed. “I asked him to come over for dinner tonight, by the way.” I glanced over at Dad, trying to gauge his reaction. “I thought maybe we could have a cookout.”

  “That sounds like a great idea,” he said, smiling at me. He shook his head. “Although perhaps I should still be feeling upset at the fact that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me that you were back together with your high school sweetheart!”

  I laughed. “Sorry about that,” I said. “I’m glad that you’re okay with it, though. That means a lot to me.” I glanced down toward Trethan, who watched the current rider intently. “Means a lot to both of us, probably.”

  Dad followed my gaze, smiling fondly. “He’s not a bad guy,” he said quietly. “He’s been dealt a pretty shit hand in life, but he’s proven that he’s man enough to pull through adversity. And I know that you wouldn’t settle for a man who was less than perfect for you.”

  I blushed and ducked my head. “Thanks, Dad,” I said quietly.

  “But if I hear the two of you going at it in the stables again, I’m not going to just walk away next time,” Dad continued seriously. “That’s my place of business, you know.”

  I gaped at him, feeling a hot blush come over me. There was nothing I could say in response to that one, though. I ducked my head and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Trethan

  To say I was amped up prior to the third round was an understatement. My second-round ride hadn’t been quite as good as my first-round ride: I’d turned my heels in a little too far, and that had cost me points even though I’d managed to hang on and post a decent time. But the lead was smaller than I would have hoped, and I prayed that I was able to hang on to it for another round.

  Despite all the training I’d been doing with Larry lately, I had to admit that I was pretty tired already. The only thing keeping me going was the thought of Vanessa’s proud, smiling face if I managed to pull this thing off.

  “You gonna choke on this one?” Mike asked from next to me.

  “Fuck off, Mike,” I snapped, not even bothering to look over at him. I was starting to understand what Larry had meant about rolling with the punches. No reason to fight Mike out here right now. He was just upset that I was doing better than him. I didn’t need to get myself kicked out of the competition by brawling right next to the judges.

  It was down to just the three of us in the final round. Mike, me, and some out-of-towner named Joe who seemed like a decent dude from the small chat that we’d had between the second and third rounds.

  They brought out a hulking, 2,000-pound bull for the final round. Man, did that thing look angry. It wasn’t one of the training bulls Larry’d had me on for the past couple weeks, but I figured I could take it. I’d been riding well that day. I was starting to feel as though this might really be a reality.

  Plus, there wasn’t really that much difference between different bulls. Sure, this one might be a little crankier than most, but in the end, they all kind of bucked in one of two ways: in more of a back and forth motion, or in a spinning, circular motion. Larry had taught me some clues so that I could tell what kind of ride I was about to be in for. And with this bull, I’d have the benefit of watching Mike and Joe try to handle the thing before I took a stab at it.

  By the time I got on the thing, I’d know exactly what I was in for.

  Mike rode first in that round. The bull was pissed off. He bucked higher and spun faster than the ones in the previous rounds. I narrowed my eyes, watching how Mike handled that. To be honest, he looked better out here than he had with the mechanical bull in the Roasted Bison. I had to give him that. But his scores in the previous round had been nowhere near mine, and I could tell that this round would be similar.

  He couldn’t keep up as the bull spun, and the beast launched him off its back. I chewed on a toothpick as I looked toward the scoreboard. Mike only scored a seventy-two on this round. I celebrated internally. Unless I really did something bad or didn’t make my scoring time, there was no way I’d be losing this one to him.

  Now, I just had to worry about Joe.

  I nodded at the man. “Hey, good luck out there,” I said. Despite the fact that I really wanted to win, I believed in being a good sport.

  He nodded back at me. “Thanks, man,” he said. “You, too.”

  Then, he climbed up the fence and waited for them to bring the bull back into position. The thing looked even more ill-tempered now. Apparently, Mike had that effect on people and animals alike. The bull gave the rodeo clowns a hard time as they tried to get it back into the pen. Yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to be a piece of cake for me to ride.

  Joe hopped on the bull’s back and signaled he was ready. I gritted my teeth and watched as they let the bucking bull out of the pen, with Joe holding on with everything he had. I liked the way he rode. His riding style had a certain flair to it, like he was in control. One day, I hoped to look as skilled as he did on the back of a bull. He’d been riding in amateur competitions for about five years now, he had told me. That seemed like a long time to remain an amateur, but technically, he wasn’t a professional.

  Right now, he was my real competition. He handled the bull much better than Mike had.

  But suddenly, around the six-second mark, Joe lost control, unable to compensate for the bull’s speed. He soared off the bull’s back with a comical look of shock on his face. The fall seemed to surprise him as much as it surprised the crowd. The man went down hard. He lay on the ground, stunned from the impact. The bull charged at him.

  The rodeo clowns scrambled in Joe’s direction, trying their best to distract the bull. But the animal had its sights set on the fallen man. It didn’t even notice the clowns. I grimaced and turned away from the spectacle, scanning the crowd for Vanessa, knowing that she must be scared. Sure enough, she had her face buried against her dad’s shoulder, her hand up to shield
her eyes.

  I felt horrible for putting her through this. Was I selfish for wanting to do this? Even if I wanted to do this so badly because I wanted to be able to give her the life that she deserved? As exhilarating as this was, I suddenly realized that I couldn’t continue to ride bulls, not with her worrying over me like this. It might have been a good life, but the life that I was tenuously building with Vanessa was a much better life.

  Out in the ring, three of the rodeo clowns had finally gotten the bull back under control, while another couple of them helped Joe out of the action. Joe was limping a little, but he moved under his own power, so I had to assume that he was okay. Still, it was a bit nerve-wracking to see an experienced rider go down hard like that.

  For the first time, I started to wonder if maybe I was in over my head.

  Even just mounting the bull made me nervous. The thing kicked at the walls of the pen and tossed its head, snorting fiery-hot air out its wide nostrils. Fury burned in the bull’s eyes, like it wasn’t just wishing me death, but it was wishing death to the entire crowd of people gathered there. And for some reason, I was sitting there on its back.

  My palms started to sweat, but then I looked up toward Vanessa. She was back to watching the proceedings, despite how pale she looked. She saw me looking up at her, and she blew me a kiss. I couldn’t help but smile at that.

  I had no time to respond to her, though, with the beast moving restlessly beneath me.

  Joe hadn’t made his scoring time in the third round, and Mike’s scores were as shitty as his personality. I had a decent chance of bringing this thing home. There were no guarantees, of course. Anything could happen out there. Joe’s disastrous ride was proof of that. Still, I imagined myself taking the whole damn thing.

  And I could see it now: Vanessa standing proudly in front of her new gallery, welcoming guests. I tried to extend the picture a little further, tried to imagine us together in the future. Buying a home, building a life there in White Bluff. It wasn’t difficult to imagine at all.

  I pictured Vanessa happy. That was what it really came down to. For the first time in my life, I felt I had a chance to make her truly happy. I had always wanted that, back when we were teenagers, but I hadn’t known how to make her happy then. And when she’d come back to town, we’d picked up where we’d left off, in some ways, but I still hadn’t known how to provide her with the kind of life she deserved.

  Because she deserved the world. She deserved not to have to worry about finances. She deserved the kind of guy who could invest in her gallery and could make that dream a reality. I may not understand everything about the art that would go in the gallery, but I wanted to see her smile. I wanted to hear her talk excitedly about the plans for the place.

  I wanted to know that she was going to stay there in White Bluff with me. And, the gallery was the ticket to that.

  I smiled a little to myself as the buzzer sounded, and the bull flew out of the gate.

  The first buck came, and I moved with it expertly. The other two riders made this bull look intimidating, but it was just like any other bull.

  Or was it?

  Doubts rushed through my thoughts. Surely, the other two riders, who had more experience than me when it came to riding, knew better, didn’t they? Was I tricking myself into believing this was going to be simple? Is that what happened to Joe? He got cocky and underestimated this bull?

  A vision of my father swam into my mind’s eye. “You know you’re not going to win this,” the vision said. “You’re just the same good-for-nothing piece of shit that you’ve always been. And, Vanessa’s going to wake up and see that, one of these mornings. She’s going to realize that she deserves better than what you’re able to give her. You think a one-time payment of ten thousand dollars is going to make her yours? She deserves some guy who makes that much every month, doing honest work. Not someone like you, who can barely scrape together a living.”

  The lack of focus cost me, just like it had when I’d first started riding the mechanical bull in the Roasted Bison.

  I tumbled off the bull, bracing for impact. The bull was still going. I could see it coming for me even as I spun through the air, feeling as though the world moved in slow motion. Its hooves churned through the dirt violently, sending up clouds of dust. The impact with the ground was going to hurt, and the bull was coming for me.

  The rodeo clowns raced toward me, but they were too far away. They’d never make it in time. I hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from my lungs. I willed my limbs to move, but they wouldn’t respond. All I could do was watch helplessly at the rushing bull.

  My last thought before losing consciousness was that my father was right: Vanessa should never have to deal with something like this or someone like me.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Vanessa

  I woke up a little as the doctor came into the room, even though he moved as quietly as he could. He smiled over at me. “You may want to go home and get some real sleep,” he said kindly.

  I shook my head, wincing at how stiff my neck was after sleeping in various hospital chairs. “I’d hate to think that something might happen while I’m away,” I rasped hoarsely, aware of how dry my throat was.

  The doctor, Mark, handed me a plastic bottle of water, but he didn’t suggest I leave again. “We’ve finished running some more of the scans,” he said, looking down at his clipboard. “He’s in stable condition, so that, at least, is good. Well, maybe not good, but at least it’s not bad.”

  “What exactly is wrong with him?” I asked. “You must know by now, right? It’s been almost a week.”

  The doctor sighed and perched on the arm of one of the other chairs, staring sympathetically down at me in a way that I was rapidly coming to hate, almost as much as I hated the smell of that room and the way the doctor’s scrubs crinkled every time he moved. “As I said, his condition is stable,” he repeated slowly. “But I’m afraid there’s been a lot of swelling around his brain.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “So, you just need to, what, bring down the swelling around his brain, and he’ll be back to normal?”

  “It’s not that simple, I’m afraid,” Mark said. I could tell he was about to deliver bad news from the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Head injuries are always tricky,” he continued. “And with an injury like this, we don’t know how long it could be before Trethan wakes up. To be perfectly frank with you, there’s a relatively high possibility that he may never wake up from this.”

  I gasped, putting a hand up to my mouth. I had known that the possibility existed, of course, but to hear the doctor say it was another thing entirely. I stared down at Trethan, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

  Mark sighed. “The other thing to know is that even if he does wake up, we have no idea what kind of condition he’ll be in. He could be paralyzed or have developed amnesia or any number of other symptoms. Like I said, brain injuries are tricky. We’re going to do everything that we can to help him, but there’s a possibility that he’s never going to be fully back to who he was before the injury.”

  I nodded, tears slipping down my face. “I understand,” I managed to whisper in response, even though it was difficult to even consider any of those things happening.

  Mark reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “The best thing for him right now, though, is to be surrounded by his loved ones,” he said. “He may not be able to really hear you, but I’m sure that he knows that you’re here. He’ll respond to that.”

  I nodded. “Is there anything else that we can do for him?”

  “I’m afraid it’s just a waiting game now,” Mark said, shaking his head. “I wish I had some better news for you, but unfortunately, that’s where we’re at. If the swelling gets any worse, we’ll have no choice but to go in and operate, but that could make things worse for him. For now, we’re just going to observe and let the swelling go down on its own. The good thing is, apart from the head injury, he hasn’t sustained any ser
ious injuries to his body, which means that his body can really focus on the one injury and repair it. You’d be surprised at what the human body is capable of.”

  “Amen,” Dad said, coming into the room. He smiled at me, but I could tell how concerned he was. “Honey, I know how worried you are, and when Trethan wakes up, I’m sure he’ll be grateful that you’ve been staying here at his side, but he wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself waiting for him to wake up.”

  “What if he doesn’t wake up, though?” I asked, the words thick in my mouth.

  “He will,” Dad said, nodding. “He’s a fighter.” He paused for a moment. “I visited him in the hospital before, you know. Back when he overdosed. It was a lot like this back then, too. But you know what? He pulled through and came out stronger on the other side of it.”

  “Yeah,” I sighed, staring down at my hand where it held Trethan’s limp one on the edge of the bed. I didn’t want to think about the possibility that he might not wake up this time, but the reminder that this wasn’t his first time in the hospital had me even more worried. Maybe this was it, then. Maybe his time was up now. He had cheated death for long enough.

  “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” Dad asked gently.

  I gave him a guilty look, glancing over at Mark. “I should probably eat something,” I agreed, despite the fact that I had zero appetite at the moment. I didn’t even want to leave Trethan’s side for long enough to go down to the hospital cafeteria. I could never live with myself if something happened while I was out.

  “Why don’t I go get you something?” Dad suggested, accurately reading my hesitation. “Anything you’d prefer?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not going to taste like much anyway,” I told him. “You could bring me back sawdust, and it would taste just the same.”

  “Wouldn’t be quite as nutritious, though,” Mark pointed out, smiling at me. He stood up. “We’ll keep monitoring him,” he promised me. “Hang in there. For all we know, he could wake up tomorrow.”