Once we made it south of Pittsburgh it was smooth sailing. During the respite, I had time to take a quick nap.
The expo was in Allegany County, the next county east of Garrett County. The fairgrounds were in Cumberland, though south of the city, and right next to the state line with West Virginia. This little panhandle where we lived often got overlooked by the rest of the state. The demographics, even the terrain, were so different from farther out.
“I’ll drop you off at the entrance, Mart,” Dad said, pulling his truck into the fairgrounds’ parking lot. “I’ll find a spot then meet you there.”
He stopped the car near the entrance, a long line of people was waiting to get in.
I reached for him and hugged him briefly. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the best. Be careful walking. I know your legs still aching.”
“I’ll manage. Now get.”
I jumped from the car and ran to the line. It went steadily, and I paid five dollars to get in. The worker handed me a wristband to display at all times. I wrapped it and stuck it in place as I ran toward the signature metal structures.
We’d come to the Allegany fairgrounds a few times before, I knew the relative direction I was heading. Still, I rushed there, making sure I didn’t miss it.
The first building had sheep inside its pens. I moved on. The next housed a dozen or so pigs—ginormous ones—and a couple of goats. Finally, I found the cows. There were a ton. Dairy cows with the signature black and white. Bulls. Steers. Market heifers. Even calves. I darted down the first aisle looking for Colten, or Lola Belle. Of course, I spotted the cow first.
She stood in a stall, her brownish hair all fluffed and clean. She looked beautiful, even more prepared than for the Autumn Glory show. Colten had probably spent a lot of time for this, eager to take home the purple ribbon.
“Lola Belle,” I said to the cow. She lifted her head and stared at me. “Good luck.”
She mooed softly and gave her great body a shake.
“Marty?”
I spun and saw Colten approaching, a wire bristled brush in his hands. His eyebrows were lifted almost to his hairline and his mouth hung slack.
“Colten,” I said breathlessly. I went to him, my eyes already watering. When I threw my arms around him and held him close I was fighting back tears. “I missed you so much.”
“What are you doin’ here?” he whispered into my hair. “Am I dreaming?”
“No. Colten, I want to move here. I want to be with you.”
His arms tightened around me. “You mean it?”
“Yes. I had to come and let you know. I’ll relocate here as soon as possible. I’m not afraid anymore. I love you so much.”
“I love you, Marty. I’m so overwhelmed.”
I pulled back and met his gaze. “Plus, I wanted to cheer you and Lola Belle on. I know you’ll take home the championship ribbon.”
He laughed and gave me a brief kiss. “Thanks for your vote of confidence. You made it right in time. We’re about to start.”
“Then I’ll go get a seat. Good luck.” I kissed him again, then went to find a place among the spectators.
This show was much more packed than Autumn Glory. Anyone west of Hagerstown could enter, which meant many more competitors. Colten also mentioned this gathering was meant for networking. I saw a lot of people in whispered conversations, likely haggling over the price of a goat or cow. Mr. Williams was probably around here somewhere, looking to buy a ram.
“Marty,” Dad said suddenly.
I jumped as he slid into the bleachers next to me, setting the crutches beside him. The old man was out of breath.
“You all right?”
“Fine. Nothing to get your blood goin’ like young love.”
“Dad.” I groaned. “Please don’t say things like that.”
“How long till they judge the dairy cows?”
“They’re next, Colten said.”
Dad grinned. “How’d he react?”
“I think he was happy.”
“I’m sure he was. Oh, here they come.”
The cows appeared at the entrance to the yard. I counted as they came out: twenty-three. Yikes. The competition also looked steep. Many of the cows appeared to be fine specimens, even to my untrained eyes. I wondered if Colten could win.
With their handlers by their sides, the cows made two complete circuits around the yard. The crowd cheered wildly, obviously impressed with the quality of these cows. When Colten and Lola Belle passed in front of us, Dad and I called out loudly.
Colten grinned but didn’t take his eyes off his cow. He was so focused. And it made him look sexy.
The cows got put into a long row and the judges descended on them. Over the loudspeaker, the emcee introduced each cow and handler, and told a brief biography about the animal’s lineage. It was gibberish to me, but the crowd around me oohed and ahhed at each pronouncement.
The judges took their time with each animal. They circled the cows, touched their flanks, inspected their udders. How could they keep them separate in their head? As soon as my focus turned to a different cow, I could hardly remember the color of the one before.
“He’s got a good chance,” Dad told me softly. “His major competition is the third from the left and fifth from the right.”
“How on earth do you know, Dad?”
He looked at me. “I did work at a ranch when I was younger, Mart. I know my stuff.”
“I’m sure you do,” I replied sarcastically. “Or maybe you think you do.”
When they got to Lola Belle, I held my breath. She stood so still, staring straight ahead, full of dignity and pride. I chuckled at the thought, of a cow having such complex emotions, but her eyes did seem to sparkle a little bit more than when she was in her pen.
They moved onto the next cow and I locked eyes with Colten. He smiled and gave me a wink.
My heart fluttered and a warm pool of happiness seeped through my whole body.
After the last cow was inspected, the judges created a huddle beside the announcer’s table.
“All right, folks,” the emcee said into the microphone. “We’ll have the results of the diary class in a few minutes. Be sure to stick around for the yearling bulls judging next, followed by the fall bull calves.”
The gathered people moved about, some leaving, some taking a seat for the next show. I fidgeted nervously with the hem of my jacket.
“Okay, and here’s the placement,” the announcer stated.
The judges walked to the front of the cows and began to point. Colten’s cow was the fifth to be selected.
“Remember,” the announcer continued. “The order now is not necessarily the final order. Those who were not selected are free to leave the arena.”
Ten cows stayed behind, and the rest filed out of the yard. The judges confirmed one more time, then the leader grabbed the ribbons off the announcer’s table.
“And here’s the results. The champion winner of the purple ribbon is….” He trailed off dramatically.
The judge with the ribbons pointed to the first cow in the row.
“Carl Nelson and his cow Bethany.”
I clapped along with the crowd, even though I felt disappointed.
The judge handed the man the long, purple ribbon.
“And the first-place blue ribbon goes to…. Colten Williams and his cow Lola Belle.”
I jumped to my feet and whistled loudly. Colten’s smile was huge as he accepted the blue ribbon and held it up in victory.
“He did great,” Dad said, nodding his head. “Next season, I bet Lola Belle will take purple. She’s a beautiful cow.”
“I’m sure she will,” I agreed.
Chapter 27
Dad and I joined Colten back at the animal pens. He’d already hung the ribbon out on the gate in front of Lola Belle. He waved when he saw us coming.
“Marty, Jim,” he said.
“Good job, Colten,” Dad told him, clapping him on the shoulder. “She’s a fine ani
mal. You’ll get it next time.”
“I hope so. I’m glad you were both able to make it and cheer me on.”
I slid next to him and put my arm around his waist. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“I’m gonna let Lola Belle rest, so you wanna go ride the Ferris wheel?”
Dad answered, “I want a hot dog.”
“He wasn’t inviting you, Dad,” I informed him. “Yeah, let’s go. I can’t remember the last time I rode a ride like this. We’ll meet you later, Dad.”
“Have fun, boys.”
Dad hobbled off as Colten double checked Lola Belle’s gate.
Sudden shouting made me turn the way Dad was going.
“Look out!” someone yelled. “A bull is loose!”
My eyes darted, trying to spot the animal. There it was, a large black bull, at the end of the walkway. Screams echoed through the metal building as people climbed gates and scrambled out of the aisle.
Dad, though, couldn’t scramble. He was right in the bull’s path.
“Dad!” I called, rushing forward. The bull’s eyes were drawn to me as I made my way forward. Its horns gleamed dangerously in the artificial light.
“Marty, get out of the way!” Dad said.
I reached his side right as the bull decided to charge.
“Move!” I told Dad. I bent down and grabbed the back of his thighs. Straining, I lifted him and tossed him over the nearest gate. He helped by lifting with his arms, but it was still a lot of weight. He made it over successfully, landing on his back inside the pen with a wince of pain.
I was a second behind him, hurtling over the gate.
As quick as I was, I wasn’t fast enough.
I had a shout as a warning, then I felt the impact from the great beast. The momentum of his head—luckily it wasn’t his horns—flung me the rest of the way over the gate. I landed in a pile of hay on my stomach, my chin digging into the hard, concrete ground.
“Marty!” Dad shrieked.
His hands were on my back, flipping me over.
I gasped at the flash of pain in my leg. “Dad, I’m fine. I’m fine.”
The bull realized we were out of its way, so it continued down the aisle. People shouted and its handlers were rushing up to restrain it.
A second later, Colten appeared. He’d climbed through the rows of pens to get to me. He bent down beside me, laying his hands on my body. “Marty, are you hurt?”
“My leg,” I managed to get through gritted teeth.
His hands hovered above my left leg. He gently lowered his palm and I screamed.
“Shit,” he said. “I think it’s broken.”
Surprisingly, Dad began to laugh.
Colten and I looked at him, wondering if the adrenaline of the situation had made him a bit goofy.
“Dad?”
His laughter increased, growing louder. His whole body shook with it.
“Dad?” I repeated.
“Oh Marty,” he said, wheezing. He wiped at a tear falling down his cheeks. “This curse sure is determined, huh?” And then he was laughing again.
“Curse?” Colten asked. “What’s he talking about?”
I shook my head. It wasn’t important now. What I needed was an ambulance.
“Marty’s got a curse,” Dad answered when I didn’t. “Accident, you see? It causes him to be unlucky.”
“Dad!” I felt my cheeks heat. It sounded stupid when you said it like that.
“Accident?” Colten glanced between me and Dad and back again.
“As long as he lives in Accident, he’s accident prone,” Dad said.
If my leg worked, I would have kicked him.
Colten, the traitor, began to laugh as well. He and Dad doubled over, clutching their guts while I writhed on the floor in agony. So much for loyalty and understanding.
“Marty, is this true?” Colten finally asked. His face was red, and his lips were still curved in humor.
“Yeah, it’s true,” I answered defensively. “It’s been true since I was nine.”
“Lola Belle’s halter at Autumn Glory?”
“Yes.”
“The flat tire?”
“Yes!”
And he and Dad laughed again.
An EMT suddenly appeared, peering over the gate. “Sir, do you need assistance?”
“Yes!” I shouted.
Dad and Colten’s mirth cut off. Or, they restrained it, because they both still smiled at each other.
The EMT opened the gate and wheeled a gurney inside. He and two others came over and settled me onto the padded stretcher. They lifted it onto its wheels.
It was a flurry of activity as Dad and Colten hurried after me. The EMT asked me a million questions, and I answered as best I could. The ambulance was parked at the fairgrounds’ entrance. They pushed me inside and Colten climbed in with me. I glared at him as he took my hand in his own.
The ambulance door shut and we sped off toward the hospital.
As the EMTs began to hook me up to machinery, Colten drew my attention.
“Marty, if you want to move back here, I’d be honored if you’d move in with me.”
The heart rate machine sped up with the increased pressure to my heart.
“You mean it?”
“Yes, of course.” He caressed the back of my hand with his thumb. “I think it’s best for your health, too. Since I live in Oakland, this curse won’t affect you, right?”
My eyes widened. It was true. I was now a resident of Oakland. My body shivered like I was drenched in cold water, then I felt the eyes of the curse leave me. It could never touch me again. I was free.
I pulled him toward me for a kiss, but the EMT slipped an oxygen mask over my face.
Colten entwined his fingers with mine. There would be time for kissing later.
THE END
ABOUT FOSTER BRIDGET CASSIDY
Foster Bridget Cassidy is a rare, native Phoenician who enjoys hot desert air and likes to wear jackets in summer. She has wanted to be a fiction writer since becoming addicted to epic fantasy during high school. Since then, she’s studied the craft academically—at Arizona State University—and as a hobby—attending conventions and workshops around the country. A million ideas float in her head, but it seems like there’s never enough time to get them all down on paper.
Her main support comes from her husband, who reminds her to laugh. Mostly at herself. Their partnership may be difficult to grasp when viewed from the outside, but seen from the inside they are a perfect match. He’s helped her though surgeries and sicknesses and is always willing to wash her hair when she can’t do it on her own. Their children have four legs and fur and will bite them on occasion. One snores loudly.
For fun, Foster likes to take pictures of her dachshunds, sew costumes for her dachshunds, snuggle her dachshunds, and bake treats for her dachshunds. In exchange for so much love and devotion, they pee vast amounts on the floor, click their nails loudly on the tile, and bark wildly at anything that moves outside. Somehow, this relationship works for all involved.
While not writing, Foster can usually be found playing a video game or watching a movie with her husband. While not doing any of those things, Foster can usually be found in bed, asleep.
For more information, visit fosterbridgetcassidy.com.
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The Accident Curse Page 14