Cowboys Don't Ride Unicorns

by Tara Lain

  “Thanks. I’ll have to go get my gear from my camper before then.”

  “No problem. I got a car.”

  Harve raised an eyebrow. “You campin’, son?”

  “Yes, sir. Don’t have any money to spare.”

  “Most young fellas are living high on their winnings.”

  “Haven’t won much in a couple years, plus I’m saving to go back to school and buy me a place.”

  “That’s damned settled for a young bull rider.”

  “Yes, sir.” He met his eyes and saw some admiration there.

  “So let us tell you a bit about some of the competitors.”

  They all chewed steak and talked rodeo for the next half hour; then Danny got in Maury’s rented Lexus and rode toward his fate—that description allowing for the slightest bit of drama.

  Two hours later he’d drawn his bull—a huge sucker named Scorpion, and from the looks on Maury’s team’s faces, he must have the sting to go with the name. As they walked to the chutes, Maury clapped a hand on Danny’s shoulders. “Careful. Don’t underestimate Scorpion. He’s meaner than piss.”

  “Sounds like not my luckiest draw.”

  “Well, let’s just say he’ll earn a lot of points.”

  Danny propped himself on the fence and slid onto the broad back, feeling the heat of the animal under him. He worked with the rope puller Maury had provided to get his bull rope in exactly the tautness and configuration he liked best. Scorpion shifted restlessly but didn’t try to slam Danny against the fence. Danny leaned down toward the twitching ear. “I’m your friend, Scorpion. I’ll make you look good if you return the favor.”

  The cowboy closest to Danny chuckled.

  The announcer called, “Next up, we got a new rider named Danny Boone. If you’ve been in California lately, you know Danny’s been doing his share of winning. So let’s see if he’s up to the great state of Nevada.”

  Danny adjusted his vest, planted his hat, wrapped his hand tight enough to hold but not so tight he couldn’t let go—and nodded.

  Fucking hell broke loose. The bull leaped out of the stall in a full breakaway—not a move bulls usually performed. Danny vaguely heard the crowd gasp over his own intake of breath. She-it. Just pretend he’s a bronc. Danny flapped his loose hand toward the sky and adjusted the roll of his hips and movement of his spine to accommodate the bull’s unique style. He spurred for a couple of extra points, but truth was he could barely stay on this sucker. Just try to look good. The hurt didn’t exist—until later.

  Scorpion sunfished, throwing his legs to the side, and Danny rode the buck, trying like a son of a bitch to look in control. Wham! All four hooves hit the ground straight-legged, and the impact shot up Danny’s back in a bolt of pain. Much longer and that bell on the bull’s belly would be tolling for Danny. For an instant Laurie’s face flashed in his mind.

  After what felt like an hour, the horn sounded.

  He waited for old Scorpion to stop spinning, kicked to the side, and landed standing. Scorpion hadn’t taken kindly to Danny’s offer of friendship and took off after him like he’d been given a contract on his life. Danny leaped to the side and let Scorpion sail past. Two bullfighters jumped in front of Scorpion, but the damned bull was hard to distract. He swiped at Danny twice more, getting lots of reaction from the crowd, and finally stampeded after the bullfighters, who lured him into the exit chute.

  Danny walked out of the arena too as the announcer said, “Looks like Danny Boone can take on the big dogs with the best of them. Good ride.”

  A couple of guys slapped his shoulder, and he nodded. Don’t let ’em see you sweat.

  A few more hours after that, he walked away from the first half of the competition with eighty-five and a half points to Maury’s eighty-six, putting him second for the day. Scorpion got a big score, which increased Danny’s style points. Maury’d gotten a not-so-nasty bull but had ridden him like a primer on bull-riding style and had blown the judges away. Between bulls, Danny’d looked in literally every corner and shadow, but no sign of Eldon. Jesus, he’d practically stared the bullfighters in the face. Hard to describe what a relief that was.

  As he left the arena with Maury, several girls rushed him and asked for autographs. Of course, they asked for Maury’s too, but Harve paused outside the gate and gave Danny a little smile.

  After they’d taken selfies with the autograph seekers, Maury said, “You free for dinner?”

  “Sure. Shall I meet you? I need to wash the bull off.”

  “I’ll drop you off and come back and get you.”

  “No need. I’d appreciate the ride, but I’ll grab a cab to you.”

  “Figuring you’re gonna win that purse?” Maury flashed his biggest smile.

  “Hoping for second place, my man.”

  Maury chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

  Maury dropped him at the trailer and said to meet them at Caesars in the Forum area. Danny showered, changed into new clothes, and found a bus going to the Strip. It let him off in front of Caesars. A few questions later, he found the upscale Italian restaurant Maury had described. He glanced at the menu outside. Shit. Hope someone else is paying. Of course, he owed them all big-time—especially Maury. Wonder why he’d want to help a guy like me?

  Inside he found Maury, Harve, and Earl Westerman, who must be some kind of right-hand man to Maury. When he sat down, Earl extended a hand. “Congratulations on a great first day.”

  “Thank you. And thanks to Maury for believing in me.”

  “I know talent, and you’ve got it, Danny.”

  “Much obliged.” He settled in and enjoyed every mouthful of the chicken scaloppine he ordered.

  Earl said, “That was one badass bull you drew today.”

  Danny nodded. “I was lucky.”

  “To survive?” Earl laughed.

  “Yeah, that, plus it gave me some style points to balance against the master here.” He patted Maury’s shoulder.

  Maury nodded seriously. “You can’t count on getting such a great bull tomorrow. Think about ways to build in some extra style.”

  “Thanks. I will.”

  Danny honestly protested when Harve picked up the check—again. “I hope you’ll let me pay one of these days.”

  “When you’re walking away with purses in the six figures, I’ll consider that.” Harve slapped his credit card on the check.

  “Sounds good.” Danny smiled, but truthfully, he didn’t really need six figures to have what he needed. He just wanted five figures—and Laurie.

  The realization pounced on him like a barnyard cat. Whoa.

  Maury cocked his head. “You okay?”

  “Oh yeah. Sorry. Just a thought from the past.”

  Earl sipped at a beer. “I’d guess your rodeo memories aren’t really great.”

  “You’d guess right.”

  Danny stored the thought about Laurie for further examination when he got back to the camper and tried to justify Earl and Maury’s faith in his winning personality for the rest of the meal. Finally they all left the restaurant, he and Maury trying not to look sore, and Maury and Earl dropped him off.

  Maury laughed. “Been meaning to tell you, that is one true masterpiece of the piece-of-shit school of camper art.”

  Danny laughed and waved as he exited the car. “See you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be there, son. I’ll be there.”

  He stepped inside the camper, closed the door, and let out a long, slow breath. Shit, his body hurt in places he’d mostly forgotten. Yeah, he’d ridden a few bulls over the last handful of months, but PBRA bulls were another story, and Scorpion was one of the biggest and best—read: worst—that day.

  He grabbed a beer from the cooler, cracked the top, and collapsed on the narrow couch he’d be sleeping on in a minute. So for a bull rider, this was one hell of an exciting day—great bull, good ride, fabulous points, no major injuries, second place going into the final day, and the recognition of his peers. I should be thrill
ed. Should be. Kind of am.

  That earlier thought about wanting five figures and Laurie tiptoed into his mind. Odd. He was a realistic guy. Once he’d believed bull riding could give him everything he wanted. He’d enjoyed the adulation and danger. He’d believed people liked him—and his father wouldn’t hurt him.

  Yeah, he’d believed in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny too.

  So why the fuck am I dreaming after a unicorn? Maybe he and Laurie could be friends. Possibly even occasional fuck buddies. But Laurie loved San Francisco and chic living and hated bull riding. He was devoted to his family, who sure as hell would hate Danny. Laurie might as well be a different species.

  Danny leaned forward and blew a swooshy, vibrating tune into the nearly empty bottle. Oh man, I wish—

  Quit dreaming, cowboy, and go to sleep.

  THE NEXT day dawned bright and painful. Old Scorpion had taken his toll. Danny stretched every way he could manage without having to pop pain pills. As in all dangerous sports, painkillers were the one-way street to ruin. Sounded like the name of a soap opera.

  He laid a leg on the top of the table and gently dropped his head toward it. Ouch. Better not let the guys see me doing my yoga. He managed to straighten up—not the work of a minute—and get dressed before Maury honked outside. Danny gathered his gear and stepped out. No Earl, no other posse members. Just Maury.

  He crawled onto the cool, cushy seat. Hell, he could have slept here easier than on that damned couch in the camper that left his feet hanging over the edge. “Morning.”

  “How you feeling?”

  “Like ten miles of bad road. You?”

  Maury grinned. “Same. But you’ll get used to it. Want to stop for a big breakfast?”

  “Hell, yeah. I could eat Scorpion about now.”

  “Good idea. Then we’d all be rid of him.”

  Maury stopped at a diner, and they found a booth in the back. The waitress, named Peg according to her name tag, brought coffee. Maury nodded. “Fill ’er up and keep it comin’, please, ma’am.”

  “No problem. I know my cowboys.” She winked.

  After they’d sucked in caffeine and ordered steak and eggs, they both sat back a little. No time like the present. Danny said, “Maury, it’s not that I don’t think I’m totally worth it—” He flashed his cheekiest grin. “—but you’ve sure done a lot for me, and I know I’ll never be able to thank you enough or repay you. I just wondered—well, why? You’re a great guy, and I see you help people out a lot, but you don’t even know me.”

  He raised his cup in a salute. “You saved my life.”

  “That’s arguable. But you long since repaid me.”

  “Truth.” He glanced up, the dark eyes serious. “I had a brother. Older than me. He was a bull rider too.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “That’s ’cause he didn’t live long enough to make his mark.”

  “I’m sorry. He must have been young. How’d he die?”

  “Got shot.”

  “Shit!”

  “Right after he got beat up and tried to fight back.”

  “Holy hell.” He winced and drank a mouthful of coffee.

  “You know about that.”

  “Never got shot.”

  “No, but you know what it’s like to have somebody call you a fag and get beat up because of it.” His eyes held Danny’s.

  “Your brother?”

  “Yep.” He shook his head. “It’s tough being gay and Mexican. It’s even tougher being gay and in the rodeo. Ramón got the worst of two worlds.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “When I read about what happened to you, it was like going back in time. Nearly killed for being gay—and by your own family. When you saved my life that day, I knew it was a chance for me to give a little back to my brother.” He set down his cup and refilled it. “In absentia.”

  “I’m honored.” And ripped up and ready to cry, but Maury would hate that. Danny stared in his cup instead. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you, please tell me.”

  “Just have a happy life.” Danny caught his breath, but Maury didn’t seem to notice. “My brother never much had a happy day from the time my family found out.”

  “Shit, man, I’m so sorry.”

  “I want to beat people upside the head. How dare they put down somebody just because the person is different from them in some way? Hell, a family of Mexicans—discriminated against and turned into scapegoats every day. How do they have the nerve to say somebody else is going to hell?”

  Peg brought the food and set it in front of both of them. She leaned down. “Half the people only go to church because they want somebody to tell ’em how right they are. Two-faced idiots. Sorry.” She grinned. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Eat up. Put some meat on those cute bones.” She walked away, waggling her ample butt.

  Maury looked at Danny, and they both laughed. Danny picked up his fork. “Coffee shop philosopher.”

  “Yeah. And right as Socrates.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THEY MOSTLY talked about rodeo for the rest of breakfast, but Danny’d been given a gift. He’d have to wait ’til later to examine it.

  They got to the arena, checked in, and got the names of the bulls they’d be riding. Danny’s was called Hombre.

  Maury raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. He’s not as damned mean as Scorpion.”

  “My ass is glad to hear it.”

  They hung for a while, chatting with Maury’s team and Earl. The stands were already half-full, and people flowed in like a river. Rodeo was popular and bull riding more so, while PBRA bulls were the most popular of all. For Las Vegas locals who made their living off the casinos, the events were a welcome relief. Of course, for PBRA, people even flew in.

  Danny leaned against the fence, glanced up, and froze.

  Was that—? He blinked and looked again. A couple of tall, skinny dudes with salt-and-pepper hair walked toward the sign for the men’s room. Shit, jumping at shadows. He wasn’t here yesterday. “Big crowd.”

  “Yep.” Maury nodded.

  Danny watched the seats fill with enthusiastic fans. Funny how his eyes followed anyone with pale hair, especially if it had that pinkish-red cast. Fortunately it was an unusual color, so he didn’t get whiplash.

  Since he was a newcomer to this competition, he rode several places before Maury, who was one of the big names. Just climbing on the bull’s back gave him a less twitchy feeling than Scorpion had. Once they hit the dirt, Hombre gave a good enough performance and allowed Danny to show off his control, ability to ride the buck, and spurring talent. When he hopped off after eight not-so-life-threatening seconds, Hombre didn’t even bother to chase him. Still, he hoped it was good enough.

  Maury grinned at him a couple of minutes later as he headed for his chute. “Let’s see if I can threaten your average there, big man.”

  Danny smiled back. “You’re the one to do it.”

  He was. Maury ended up with the same half-point lead once the averages were compiled, but Danny’s second place was good enough for just shy of four thousand, while Maury made closer to five. Four thousand toward the land. His land. Still, twenty felt a ton of pain and danger away.

  Harve came over and gave him a firm handshake. “Congratulations.”

  Maury sidled up. “Told you he was a winner.”

  “Damned right. So you entering Sacramento next weekend?”

  “Yes, sir. That’s my plan.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Maury said, “Can I give you a lift back to the piece of shit?” He chuckled.

  “Thanks, but I need to stop in the restroom, and I might grab some food for the long ride home. I’ll grab a cab.” Another name for bus.

  “Okay. Well, it’s been great.” He gave Danny a big hug. Another gift from a not huggy kind of guy. “See you next weekend.”

  Danny tugged his hat brim and walked to the bathroom at the back of the arena. Yeah, he had to pee,
but he wanted to decompress a little before he hit the road. The men’s room was down one of those long halls, and Danny stopped, leaned against the wall for a second, and just listened to himself breathe. As noises died down, he felt his muscles relax a little.

  Okay. Get going. He ambled into the john, used the facilities, splashed some water on his face, and retraced his steps back into the hall. The noise from the huge auditorium beyond had quieted a lot.

  He looked down to make sure his fly was all the way closed, glanced up at a noise like a squeak, and flew against the wall as something big and hard slammed into the back of his head. Shit!

  He hit the wall like a rock, bounced off, and spun in time to block a punch from the fist of some nightmarishly huge guy dressed in cowboy clothes. Danny ducked to the side. “Get off, asshole! If you’re looking for money, you came to the wrong place.”

  “How about that check in your pocket, you filthy poser?”

  Danny backed up. “Ceremonial. The money gets direct deposited. You can’t cash it, so get the fuck away from me.”

  “Well, shit.” The guy’s big-boned face hardened. “Guess I’ll just have to kill you for fun.”

  What the fuck? Kill?

  He backed up two more steps. He gasped as another set of powerful arms snatched him from behind and squeezed. Damn, not just arms. Some kind of metal rope! Danny’s breath rushed from his lungs and his heart hammered, but he struggled like a s’um bitch.

  In front, the big dude got closer and slammed his fist into Danny’s midsection. Bile filled his mouth along with blood from where he bit his tongue. “Shit!” The guy behind clamped his body with the wire like a vise.

  He couldn’t move his arms, so he kicked forward hard, his boot complete with spurs connecting with the big guy’s thigh.

  The monster howled. “You bloody faggot! You come in here and try to poof up one of the last places a man can be a man.”

  So that’s it. “I don’t see you on any fucking bull, you fat fuck.”

  The dude slammed a fist into his belly again and he saw stars.

  The guy behind tightened the rope even more, cutting through cloth into flesh. Breath warmed Danny’s ear and a too-familiar icy voice crawled up his spine. “It’s not what you ride in public that’s at issue here, now is it?”