Long Ride Home

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  “He’s fine. But he wants to talk to you. I’ll put him on.”

  At the pause, Lara waved to Brent who had answered the door and was now beckoning them inside.

  “I’ll be right there,” she said, and a moment later, she heard Kevin’s voice.

  “So you’re in South Dakota.”

  Lara grinned. “That’s right.”

  “What made you go?”

  Since her friend had stepped into the large trailer, Lara decided to divulge the truth. “Do you remember meeting my friend Polly?”

  “Umm. . .”

  “She stopped in while I was visiting you last week, and I introduced her.”

  “I’m sorry, Lara, I don’t recall.”

  She heard the drowsiness in his voice. “That’s all right. You were pretty out of it the evening she showed up. But anyway, this trip was Polly’s idea. She’s rather, um, attracted to Brent, and that’s putting it mildly.”

  “How does she know Brent?”

  “She doesn’t. I mean, she’s seen him get thrown from a bull, and she’s talked to him twice.” Lara started giggling, realizing how silly it must seem to Kevin. “Sounds like true love, eh?”

  “You’re kidding me. Your friend? I thought maybe it was you.”

  “Me? No!”

  Before Lara could even wonder about the remark, Brent appeared at the trailer’s door. “You comin’ in?”

  Lara met his gaze and nodded. “I’m talking to Kevin. I’ll be right there.”

  “Lara, listen to me. I want you to be careful, okay? I have a feeling Brent wants to settle an old score, and I’d hate to see you get hurt. He and I had a conversation this morning, and well, I’ve been thinking about things all day.”

  “That’s really nice of you to be concerned, Kev, but. . .” Lara watched Brent descend the three metal stairs that led down from the trailer before he strode in her direction. “. . .I’ll be fine.”

  “Keep your guard up.”

  “I always do.”

  An instant later, Brent reached out and snatched Lara’s cell phone.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Surprise and indignation caused her to gape at the man.

  “Wink? It’s me. I don’t mean to be rude, but this little social worker is off duty right now. Call back later, after the rodeo tonight, and I’ll catch you up on the current standings.” Without waiting for a reply, he dropped her phone into her purse. Then, taking hold of Lara’s elbow, he guided her toward the trailer. “Wink’ll survive for a couple of days. You need a break, a chance to have some fun and enjoy yourself.”

  Lara bristled. She didn’t appreciate being bossed as though she were a little girl. Pulling out of his grasp, she stepped up into the trailer. She’d never been inside what was commonly known as a “fifth wheel,” and the sight impressed her, even though it smelled sort of weird—like strong coffee, leather boots, and horseflesh intermingled with dirty socks.

  Out of politeness, Lara tried not to grimace as she glanced around. The trailer was much bigger inside than she imagined. To the right was a cozy living room where Polly stood chatting with Quincy. On her immediate left was a small kitchenette and a narrow hallway led away from it to the back of the trailer where Lara assumed the bedrooms were located.

  “Welcome to our humble abode,” Quincy said with a grin. He extended his right hand, and Lara took it. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, but I’m glad for it. Have a seat.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Here, let me take your bags,” Brent said.

  “No, thank you.” Lara lowered herself into one of the two swivel rockers and placed the leather-encased video camera and her purse right beside the chair.

  “Oh, now, don’t be sore at me because I ended your phone call,” Brent said, sporting a charming grin. “Wink can be a demanding guy, and Polly just got done telling Quincy and me that you two wanted a little excitement this weekend.”

  “Can’t get more exciting than the bull-riding competition,” Quincy added with a laugh. “Would you two ladies like something to drink? A can of pop?”

  “No, thanks,” Polly replied.

  Lara declined the offer as well. She could feel Brent’s penetrating stare, but she refused to validate his boorish behavior with even a brief glance. It troubled her that Kevin had taken the time to warn her about the “score” Brent wished to settle, and a heartbeat later, Lara wanted nothing more than to turn tail and go home. This was a stupid idea. Why had she let Polly talk her into it?

  “Looks like a camera in that black leather case. Is it?”

  Lara drew herself from her thoughts and nodded in reply to Quincy’s question. “I volunteer at a ranch for physically challenged kids. When the weather isn’t good for riding, we’ll play games or watch a movie. The original version of National Velvet is one of my kids’ favorites. They love any story involving horses, so I thought I’d film the rodeo tonight. The kids will enjoy seeing it.”

  “That’s mighty thoughtful of you,” Quincy said. “If you’d like, Quincy the Clown can do a little juggling for the kids.”

  “Anything to get on camera,” Brent quipped.

  Lara ignored him. “A juggling act would be great. Thanks.” She looked over at Polly whose gaze seemed glued on a certain handsome bull rider. A feeling of disquiet plumed inside of her, and Lara stood. “Well, I guess we should be on our way.”

  “What?” Polly gave her an incredulous glare.

  “I’m hungry,” Lara told her with a meaningful glare. “And these gentleman need to get ready for their performances tonight.”

  “Honey, that’s five hours away,” Brent said. “We’ve got plenty of time. But if you’d like something to eat, there’s a place nearby that serves up some of the best barbeque beef you’ve ever tasted.”

  “Mmm, that sounds good,” Polly replied, standing to her feet.

  Lara felt the invisible noose around her neck tightening.

  “Quincy, want to come along?” Brent asked.

  “No, I think I’ll let you tend to our guests while I take a quick nap.”

  “All right, then.” Brent gave Lara and Polly an engaging grin. “Let’s go.”

  Ten

  “I don’t like him. He acts like an egomaniac.”

  Sitting at the picnic table across from Lara, Polly gave her a disappointed pout. “Brent took our orders and went up to buy the food. He’s paying. I think he’s a gentleman.”

  Lara glanced over her friend’s left shoulder and saw Brent waiting his turn in line at the service window. Located on the far side of the vast ranch on which the rodeo took place, Dakota Dave’s BBQ was only a little bigger than a hut in a row of food stops and lemonade and beer stands.

  “I still don’t like him.”

  “What happened to ‘love your neighbor as yourself’ and ‘forgiving one another as God, for Christ’s sake, forgave us’?”

  “All right, all right. You don’t have to Scripture-whip me.”

  “Well?”

  Lara shrugged. “I just don’t appreciate Brent’s macho demeanor. He acts like he’s used to women falling at his feet because he’s a big rodeo star, and he’s wondering why we’re not swooning.”

  “Hey, speak for yourself.”

  Lara rolled her eyes at the tart reply.

  “Okay, fine. You don’t like one particular quality about Brent. But you can still be nice and a good Christian witness to him.”

  “I just feel like going back home.”

  “Why?”

  Picking at the splintery top of the table, Lara shrugged.

  “You’re going to let a macho cowboy steal your joy? That’s silly, Lara. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.”

  Lara glanced across the table and noticed Polly’s short, walnut-
colored brown hair shimmering in the afternoon sunshine. She was right. No one could steal Lara’s joy unless she allowed him to—and she wouldn’t.

  “We’re in South Dakota at a rodeo. How cool is that!” Polly declared. “Wait until I tell everyone on Monday what I did over the weekend.”

  Lara grinned. “Yeah, we’re finally doing something out of the ordinary.” She glanced over her friend’s shoulder and saw their host heading toward their table. “Here comes Brent.”

  Polly sat back, straightened her shirt, combed her fingers through her hair, and Lara laughed.

  “You’re a hoot.”

  Polly replied with an impish wink.

  “Here we are, Ladies,” Brent said, setting down a cardboard tray. “If this isn’t the best barbeque you’ve ever tasted, I’ll eat your sandwich for you.”

  Another laugh escaped Lara, and she felt herself begin to relax. Brent set a plastic cup of lemonade in front of her and handed her a straw before offering her a foil wrapped sandwich.

  “Thanks.”

  “You bet.” Brent served Polly in the same manner.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  “Should I ask the blessing, or would you like to do the honors, Brent?”

  He paused. “Um, you go ahead.”

  Polly bowed her head, and Lara followed suit. “Thank you, Lord God, for this meal. Thank you for Brent who purchased it for us. We ask that You protect him tonight as he competes in the bull-riding championship. Bless him. . .and Lara and me. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  “Amen,” Lara echoed.

  She looked up just in time to see Brent lift his gaze. As they began eating, Lara sensed his discomfort.

  “Are you a Christian?” Before she could stop it, the question bubbled out of her mouth. “I, um, hope I’m not being too personal.”

  “I went to church as a kid,” Brent said, taking a large bite of sandwich.

  “This barbeque is delicious,” Polly said.

  Lara’s mouth was full, so she nodded.

  “You ladies like it?”

  “Very much.”

  “Mmm-hmm. . .”

  Brent chuckled. “You even sound like you’re enjoying it, Lara.”

  She swallowed, smiled, and stuck the straw into her plastic glass of lemonade. “Now, getting back to my question. . .”

  “About religion?” Brent asked with a glance in her direction, “Wink told me you’re a born-again Christian, so I imagine you’re looking for recruits.”

  “All the time.”

  Polly laughed. “We try not to be obnoxious about it. I’m a born-again Christian too.”

  “I figured,” Brent replied. “It’s like that old ‘birds of a feather’ cliché.”

  “So, are you or aren’t you?” Lara felt rather sassy. It must have been the ten hours she’d spent in the car with Polly.

  Pushing up on the rim of his black Stetson, Brent peered at Lara. The expression on his face said he was contemplating her inquiry. “I guess I’m a Christian like some people are Irish. It’s in my background, but I don’t think about it too much.”

  “You seem to be confusing religious beliefs with heritage,” Lara pointed out. “Being Irish isn’t something you can control. Becoming a Christian involves exercising your will.”

  His brown eyes locked on Lara, Brent narrowed his gaze.

  Polly touched his forearm. “If you’d prefer not to discuss this issue, we can talk about something else.”

  “No, that’s okay. I don’t shy away from controversial topics.” He smiled at Polly, then looked back at Lara. “Okay, Little Social Worker, why don’t you tell me all about being a Christian, and I’ll tell you whether I am one or not.”

  The challenge caused Lara to smile with delight. God had just flung open a door of opportunity that she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—pass up. After a glance at Polly, and seeing the prayerful expression on her friend’s face, Lara opened her purse and extracted a gospel tract.

  “This is pretty simplistic,” she stated apologetically. “I use this pamphlet to talk to my kids about Jesus.”

  “The kids on the ranch?”

  Lara nodded. “God’s plan of salvation is so easy that children can even comprehend it. Look—” She directed his attention to the tract. “There are four things you’ve got to understand in order to become a Christian. One, you’re a sinner. We’re all sinners. No one’s perfect, right?”

  Brent nodded. “Right.”

  “Two, sin has to be punished. When you were a kid did you get spankings when you were naughty?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Same thing, except sin is punishable by eternal death in an awful place called Hell.” When Brent didn’t reply, Lara continued. “Three, Jesus took the punishment for our sin when He died on the cross. I tell my kids that Jesus took the spanking we were supposed to get from our Heavenly Father so we didn’t have to get punished.”

  Brent pursed his lips, thinking it over.

  “Four, anyone can be saved if he or she will just ask.”

  “That’s it?” Brent gave her a suspicious look.

  “Yep.” Lara pushed the small, colorful pamphlet towards him. “You can keep this tract. There are some Bible verses on the back that you can look up and read whenever you get a chance.”

  “Brent,” Polly began, “was there ever a time in your life that you asked Jesus Christ to save you?”

  “No, not that I can recall.”

  “Well, will you give it some thought?”

  He nodded, then balled up the foil from his sandwich. “But if what you’re saying is true, and those four things are what it takes to be a Christian, then how come no one’s told me till now?”

  “Maybe your heart wasn’t ready to receive the Good News until now,” Polly replied.

  “Hmm.” A grin tugged at the corners of Brent’s mouth. “You know what? Instead of hospital work, maybe you two should have gone into sales.”

  ❧

  Kevin lay awake, holding the telephone to his ear. After five rings, Brent finally answered.

  “About time you picked up.”

  “Wink?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. Where’ve you been? It’s one o’clock in the morning.”

  “I’ve been out having a good ol’ time. Just walked in, as a matter of fact.”

  In his mind’s eye, Kevin could see the trailer he shared with Brent, Quincy, and Jimmy.

  Jimmy! He remembered him.

  “My memory’s comin’ back.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “So what kind of ‘good ol’ time’ were you out having?”

  “Well, I’m now in second place, Wink. That was cause for celebration, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. Congratulations.” Kevin tried to raise his right hand, but the limb felt like it had been filled with cement. He was beginning to fear he’d never ride again.

  I’ll ride again. Of course I’ll ride again! Sheer determination gripped his heart. He’d rather die than give up rodeoing.

  “Lara and Polly are real nice girls,” Brent was saying.

  Hearing Lara’s name, Kevin forced himself to pay attention.

  “They’re the kind of women a guy wouldn’t mind taking home to meet his mother.”

  “If he had a mother.” Kevin’s mom was dead, and Brent’s left home when he was a boy, never to be heard from again. Neither of them were “Mama’s boys.”

  “You know what I’m getting at.”

  “I think I do. You’d better have Quincy tell you a bedtime story about one of his three disastrous marriages again.”

  “Oh, right.” Brent chuckled. “I’ve heard enough of them stories to last me a good part of
forever. And speaking of. . .”

  “Forever?” Kevin frowned, wondering where all this was going.

  “Yeah, Lara and Polly tried to sell me on their faith. Did a pretty good job too. I promised to take ’em to the sunrise church service tomorrow morning. I can’t believe I actually said I’d crawl out of bed at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning.”

  “It’ll be tough, especially if you’ve been drinking.”

  “Wink, are you kidding? I haven’t had a drop of alcohol. I’ve been in the company of two Christian women all night. Well, and one mean, angry bull.”

  Kevin chuckled, and the left side of his head felt sort of weird. It didn’t hurt, exactly.

  “You know, I was thinking. I’ll be thirty years old in less than six months. Maybe it’s time to settle down.”

  Kevin could hardly believe what he’d just heard. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Was he hallucinating?

  Was Brent hallucinating?

  “I’m of the persuasion you have been drinking, my friend—or indulging in something else.”

  “Nothing, Wink. I’ve never been more sober in my life. What about you? You ever give marriage a thought?”

  “Maybe just a thought, then my sanity returned.”

  “What about Christianity? Ever think about it?”

  “Sure. My parents were Christians, so was my brother—”

  “How come you never told me you had a brother?”

  “Cause we kind of disowned each other.”

  “Well, better not tell Little Miss Social Worker that, or she’s liable to initiate some sort of kiss-and-make-up session.” Brent laughed.

  Kevin, on the other hand, didn’t find the remark a bit amusing. His eyelids suddenly grew heavy. The shot the nurse had given him a half-hour ago was beginning to affect him. “Lara already knows about my brother and me. She grew up with me and Clayt. Remember?” He paused, thinking over Brent’s “Little Miss Social Worker” comments. “Sounds like you and Lara aren’t getting along so well.” In some odd way, the notion comforted Kevin.

  “What makes you say that? We’re getting along just fine.”

  Disappointment engulfed him. Lara wasn’t Brent’s type. His friend had to realize that much.