Ranch at River’s End

by Brenda Mott

  September slipped into October without much change in the weather. Jordan knew Darci was grateful for that. The ranch rodeo was coming up, and he couldn’t wait to see it happen. He was touched that Darci and her aunt and uncle would want to do something in Sandra’s memory. It reminded him to keep things grounded with Darci. He would never forget his devotion to Sandra and no one could ever take her place, no matter how much he enjoyed being with Darci.

  As far as the rodeo went, Jordan wanted to help do something other than hand out flyers, but didn’t know what.

  “What can I do to help?” he asked Darci on a Friday the week before the event.

  “Well, we could use someone to run the barbecue. We’ll be selling food to help raise money.”

  “Done,” he said. “I am a master of the grill.”

  She laughed. “Most men are. Or at least think they are.”

  “Careful,” he teased. “You’re stepping on my ego here. I am the man when it comes to barbecue.”

  “All right, all right.” Darci held up her hands in mock surrender. “Just so we have some food to feed all those hungry people. Stella and I and some of the ranchers’ wives will be making side dishes to go with the meat. Potato salad, beans and all that good ole cowboy fare.”

  “You’re making me hungry,” he said. “So, what should I bring to grill?”

  “We’ll provide all the meat,” she said. “It’ll be stuff like pulled pork and hot dogs. Maybe some hamburgers.”

  “Okay. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

  Somehow, Jordan thought, he had to find a way to have fun with Darci, and still be true to Sandra’s memory.

  THE DAY OF THE RANCH RODEO dawned clear, but slightly chilly. The events were set to start at ten o’clock. Darci got up bright and early and roused Christopher from bed. He grumbled, but once he was awake, he seemed excited about going.

  They arrived at the Shadow S by seven-thirty to help Stella and Leon. By then, the sun was out with the promise of a nice day, and the temperature was gradually warming. Jordan met them at the ranch, and he and Leon set up the barbecue grill and started the batches of pulled pork Stella had made the night before, simmering it on low in cast-iron pans. The aroma of the wood smoke soon filled the air, making Darci’s breakfast of fruit and cereal seem like a distant memory.

  Contestants from neighboring ranches began arriving a short time later, and soon the place was abuzz, more and more people drifting in as the rodeo drew closer to starting. The portable bleachers quickly filled up with spectators. The rodeo was being held in the arena in front of the stables, and cowboys were busy all around getting the livestock ready. Horses and cattle were run into the holding pens for the bronc riding, the roping events and the wild cow milking.

  Trucks and trailers parked everywhere, with roping and barrel-racing horses tied to them. Country music filled the air over the loudspeakers Leon had set up, and from the booth above the arena, Leon and one of the neighboring ranchers, who’d agreed to fill the role of announcer, tested the sound system.

  By ten o’clock, things were ready to roll, and the events got underway. Darci hadn’t barrel raced in a very long time, and the team barrel racing was something new to her. Each ranch team of four broke into two teams of two, running the cloverleaf barrel-racing pattern side by side, holding a piece of crepe paper between them. If the paper broke, the team was disqualified. The clocked times of the two teams were added, and the fastest combined total would determine the winning team.

  Chris had grumbled a bit at running barrels. It was generally a woman’s sport in the world of rodeo, though men and boys did compete in barrel racing at gymkhanas. Christopher had run barrels as a kid, and he and Leon had done some practice runs a few days before the rodeo. They would team up together, and Darci and Stella would form the second half of their team. Darci felt a little nervous as she and Stella waited with Chris and Leon at the entry gate for their names to be called.

  The guys ran first, turning in a time of just under eighteen seconds. Darci was riding Stella’s paint mare, Feather, and Stella rode the buckskin she’d bought at the auction, who’d turned out to be a former gymkhana horse. Together, they entered the arena, and one of the crew handed them a length of orange crepe paper. “Good luck,” he said.

  “You take the inside,” Aunt Stella instructed. “Feather’s got a shorter stride than Buttermilk does.”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Keep her in check on the turns until I shout go.”

  “Will do.” Darci nodded.

  They took off, flying toward the first barrel. Darci pulled Feather up at the last minute, sliding into the turn with ease. She held her as even with Buttermilk as she could, keeping the mare in check on the turns as Stella took the outside, careful not to tear the crepe paper they held between them. Then they were off as one. By the time they rounded the third and final barrel, the crowd was cheering.

  They completed the turn, then took off for the finish line. The crepe paper held, and when Stella let go of it as they crossed the finish line, Darci waved it over her head and let out a victory whoop. They turned in a respectable time of 17.5 seconds, giving them a combined total of 35.4—enough to push the Shadow S into second place.

  “Nice ride,” Jordan said, meeting them at the gate.

  Darci smiled, swinging down off the paint. “Thanks. I didn’t think I’d be able to do it.”

  “And why not? I had every confidence in you.”

  She laughed. “I’m glad someone did. It’s been a long time since I ran barrels.” She stroked Feather’s neck. “I think I’ll take her around for a sip of water.” Darci led the mare to the back of the arena where a water trough stood.

  “Hi, Darci.”

  She looked up to see Shauna Roark. She was dressed in jeans, a red-and-purple Western shirt and red cowboy boots. Her blond hair was spiked in its usual fashion, but she’d pulled a purple cowboy hat over most of it. “Hi, Shauna,” Darci said. “How are you?”

  “Fine, thanks. That was a nice run.”

  “Thank you. I’m afraid I’m a bit rusty.”

  “You didn’t look rusty to me.” Shauna smiled. “I’m having so much fun, and so is Tara. I just can’t thank you and your aunt and uncle enough for doing this for us.”

  “You’re more than welcome,” Darci said. “We’re happy to do it, and I’m having the time of my life.”

  “Well, good.” Shauna looked hesitant. “I hate to spoil your fun, but there’s something I wanted to talk to you about, and I didn’t think it could wait. I was going to ask you to come into the school to talk to me.”

  “Oh?” Darci frowned, her stomach tensing. “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s Christopher,” Shauna said. “I’ve been having a little trouble with him at school. He’s acting out in class a bit, and he’s turning in his homework late or not at all.”

  Darci felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.

  “I had no idea. He’s been telling me he’s getting his homework done. I guess I should’ve checked it more carefully.” Between her two jobs and trying to keep up with the laundry, housekeeping chores and grocery shopping, Darci was exhausted and had readily taken Chris’s word that his homework was done. Now she felt like a fool.

  “Well, I thought you should know.”

  “What is he doing to act out?”

  “Typical boy things. Showing off in class, talking too much, sometimes talking back to me.” Shauna sighed. “Again, I’m really sorry to bring this up here today, Darci, when you and your family have been so wonderful. I don’t want to spoil your fun.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Darci said. “I’m glad you told me.

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” Shauna said. She walked away, teetering on the high heels of her cowboy boots.

  Darci let her breath out in a huff. What on earth was it going to take to get through to Christopher?

  She didn’t know, but one thing was for
certain.

  They were going to have a long talk once the ranch rodeo was over.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHRIS FELT A BIT self-conscious as he exited the arena on Dollar. He’d ridden in the team barrel racing and had also been part of the Shadow S’s entry in the team doctoring competition, partnering with Leon to do the heading and heeling—roping the steer and holding it—while his mom and Aunt Stella doctored it.

  He’d spotted Jenny watching him from the fence nearby and Kelly, too, in the bleachers. He liked Kelly, but he had a huge crush on Jenny, and even though she’d been mean to him, he couldn’t stop liking her. She was sitting with Mac on the fence, and he saw them smirk as he rode out of the arena.

  Choosing to ignore both girls, Chris rode Dollar toward the water tank and saw his mom talking to Ms. Roark. Great! Just what he needed. Were they saying something about him? Telling himself they were probably just discussing the rodeo, since it was being held to benefit Tara Roark, Chris hung back anyway, letting Dollar drink from the stock tank only after his mother had ridden away.

  But still, he was nervous. After all, Ms. Roark was his homeroom teacher, and he hadn’t been doing so well in school lately. He was dreading the progress reports. But he couldn’t help it. He just didn’t care about school anymore.

  His mom had told him things would get better in River’s End. But nothing had changed since he’d left Northglenn, including the fact that he was being cyberbullied again.

  He hadn’t told his mother, though a part of him wanted to. And he’d finally made a friend at school—Jonathan Baker—who was in his homeroom class. Jonathan liked to skateboard, too, and didn’t look down on Chris for riding. He thought horses were “kinda cool.”

  It was Jonathan who’d pointed out the video clip running on View Tube. It showed him getting his butt kicked by Josh Davis and Darren Stark that night at the skate park behind the school. And if that weren’t bad enough, someone had posted anonymous comments on a chat-room page, cutting Chris down, making crappy remarks about what he’d done at his old school. He didn’t know who had filmed the video and put it up on the Web site. So many people had been around that night at the skate park, it could have been anyone.

  All he knew was he was sick to death of being the butt of everyone’s joke.

  And thanks to what had happened in Northglenn, there really wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. School sucked, this town sucked and he didn’t give a rat’s rear about doing his homework.

  Still, he knew his mom was bound to find out about his schoolwork sooner or later, and when she did, there’d be hell to pay.

  STELLA WAS TICKLED TO PIECES when Darci shared Shauna’s gratitude with her. “I’m so glad she’s pleased with what we’ve done,” Stella said. “I was afraid of offending her—of hurting her pride.”

  “Well, you didn’t.” Darci gave her aunt a hug. “You’re one of the most generous people I know, Aunt Stella. You and Uncle Leon, and I think what you’ve done here is wonderful.”

  “Oh, go on.” Stella blushed. “Couldn’t do it without people like you, too, and the other ranch contestants. Even Jordan, helping out with the barbecue.” Stella glanced over at Jordan and Leon, who were busy dishing up ribs and pulled pork sandwiches, now that the rodeo events had been halted temporarily in order for everyone to take a lunch break. “But we’ll see how you feel about the rodeo after the wild cow milking.” Stella winked.

  Darci found a quiet corner outside the arena and tied Feather to the fence, loosening the mare’s cinch to let her breathe a little during the break. Then she made her way over to get in line in front of the barbecue grill. She watched Jordan spooning up loose meat onto hamburger buns. True to his word, he looked right at home. He had on a cowboy hat, and a T-shirt that said Kiss the Cook. Darci bit her lower lip, fantasizing about doing just that. She couldn’t stop staring at him. Today he didn’t look anything like a doctor. Today he was every inch a cowboy. A very good-looking cowboy.

  His hair was just visible beneath the black hat, and his espresso-brown eyes appeared even darker than normal beneath the brim. Why hadn’t she noticed before how long and thick his lashes were? And as usual, his jeans fit just right, his long legs slender yet muscular. Cowboy boots completed the package in a way Darci found hard to resist.

  Jordan looked up and caught her staring, and she felt her face warm. She gave him a little wave, then averted her eyes and continued to wait her turn in line. At last she reached the barbecue grill, plate in hand.

  “What’ll it be?” Jordan asked, wielding a fork and slotted spoon.

  “Make mine a barbecue sandwich,” Darci said. “I can’t resist pulled pork.”

  “A sandwich it is,” Jordan said. He heaped loose meat onto the bun on Darci’s plate. “Want a rib, too?”

  “Why not? Pile it on,” Darci said. “God, that smells heavenly.”

  “I told you I was a master griller,” he said. “Once you taste this meat, you’ll see I didn’t lie.”

  She laughed. “No doubt.”

  “Don’t eat too much,” Jordan teased. “You still have to milk a wild cow. Wouldn’t want you to be moving too slowly out there in the arena, weighed down by all this good food.”

  “Very true,” Darci said. “Of course, all this food will give me energy, too. That’ll be my excuse for making a pig of myself.”

  “You could never do that,” Jordan said, his eyes appreciative, and Darci felt the hair on her neck lift as though someone had tickled it with a warm whisper.

  Reluctantly, she moved on, heading over to the tables where local women were serving up potato salad, cole-slaw, baked beans and various desserts. Though Jordan had only been teasing her, he had a point. Darci forced herself to take small portions so she wouldn’t feel heavily weighed down when it came time to ride again.

  And he had been right about his barbecuing skills, too. Both the single rib on Darci’s plate and the barbecue sandwich were melt-in-your-mouth delicious. “Mmm-mmm, that’s better than sex,” Darci whispered to Stella. “As if I could remember,” she added with a laugh.

  Stella nearly choked on her own food. “Lord, girl, what are you trying to do to me! That’s way too much information.”

  Darci laughed, and changed the subject. “Count me in for cleanup duty,” she said. “I’ll get to it as soon as I finish eating. I can help clear some of this out of the way before the rodeo starts up again and do the heavy stuff after our events are over.”

  “Sounds good,” Stella said. “Thanks again, Darci, for pitching in.”

  “Of course.” She gave her aunt a squeeze.

  After the lunch break, the spectators filed back to their places on the bleachers, while the contestants got ready to ride in the upcoming events. Darci retightened Feather’s cinch, making sure it was good and secure. Leon would be riding the mare in the wild cow milking, and he sure didn’t need his saddle slipping sideways.

  Much laughter and joking filled the arena as the announcer declared it time for the wild cow milking. It was one of the wildest, most fun events of the entire rodeo. Leon would be manning the rope—his job to catch and hold the cow—while Darci, Christopher and Stella tried to control the animal long enough to get a small amount of milk into a glass bottle.

  Darci readied herself at the starting line with Chris and Stella. At the opposite end of the arena, the big Hereford cross flew out of the roping chute, Uncle Leon and Feather hot on her heels.

  The crowd cheered as Leon expertly roped the cow in one quick throw. Next came the tricky part. Stella grabbed hold of the rope, and together with Darci and Chris, she worked her way down the length of it toward the cow’s head. The Hereford bellowed and hollered like she was being roasted for lunch while the crowd called out encouragement to the team.

  Holding the glass bottle, Darci made her way to the cow’s flank. The animal kicked and bucked, thrashing about like a huge fish on a hook. Finally Darci managed to get up underneath her and take hold of a teat. She squ
eezed, spraying more milk over her hand than she did into the bottle itself. But at last she got enough milk into the bottle to warrant a run back to the finish line.

  Just as she turned to make her move, the cow bucked and twisted beside her. Too late, Darci saw the animal’s hindquarters coming her way. She put her free hand out and used her shoulder as well to push the Hereford away. But to her chagrin, the cow pitched high in the air and came down right on Darci’s foot.

  Red-hot pain shot through the arch of her foot as she stumbled away. She faltered, going down on one knee, but held the bottle aloft in an attempt not to spill the milk. With a shout of triumph, Darci regained her footing and limped to the finish line.

  Points were given based on the fastest time and the amount of milk in the bottle at the end of the run. Darci did well on both counts, and the crowd roared. With the help of the arena crew, Leon shook his loop from the cow’s head and let the animal go. The Hereford ran bellowing out of the ring, back into the holding pens.

  Stella and Christopher raced down to join Darci at the far end of the arena, panting from the exertion of their efforts. “Way to go, Mom!” Christopher said as the announcer called out their time—a respectable one.

  “You okay?” Stella asked, out of breath, her brow wrinkled with concern.

  “I think so. Ouch.” Darci tried to put weight on her left foot but couldn’t stand the pain.

  Leon had ridden over to them and dismounted Feather. “Come sit down,” he said. “You need to have the paramedics take a look at that.”

  “It’s fine,” Darci said. “Just a little sore.” But deep down, she had her doubts. She hobbled over to the fence and sat down on the ground outside the arena.

  “Let me have a look at that.”

  Jordan had pushed past the paramedics, who obviously knew him well, and now crouched down beside her. “I thought you weren’t supposed to get hurt,” he said, teasing her. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Gently, he took hold of her foot and pulled her boot and sock off.