“I made a few missteps. Doing the walk of shame, which naturally, the paparazzi captured on film. Getting pulled over for a broken taillight, which the tabloids twisted into me being under suspicion for DUI. I started dating an assistant director for the company that produces the show. He insisted we keep our relationship on the down-low since he was a really private guy. So we got…amorous on the patio at my place, not thinking anything of it because it’s secluded, right? I was in my own home, right?”
“This ain’t gonna end well, is it?”
“No. Some douchebag photographer ignored the Private property warning and snapped pics of us getting naked and wild. The pictures were plastered all over the tabloids the next day. Granted, you couldn’t see his face, but you could see mine. He broke up with me immediately. Said being with me was too much work.”
Gemma winced.
“And don’t get me started on the Jake debacle. I had to leave California to get away from it.” When Gemma didn’t ask specifics, Ava knew the bad press had even made it to rural Wyoming.
“Do you love acting so much you’ll put up with that ugly part of the business to get to do what makes you happy?”
Ava sighed. “I thought I loved acting, but I’m not even sure of that anymore.” Why was it so easy to blurt this stuff out to a stranger? She smiled at Gemma. “Enough about that. What about you?”
“I love my life. I’m truly blessed. I’m married to the greatest man in the world, we have the rugrats we both always wanted,” she smiled softly, “and we get to raise them around family on the land we love.”
Footsteps pounded across the wooden planks and a dark-haired girl and a younger dark-haired boy burst into the bunkhouse. “Mama, come on. Daddy’s got the training bull out. Says he might need your help.”
Gemma stood. “All right. Tell him I’ll be right there. You comin’ to watch Chase practice?”
“I’ll be there in ten.” Ava ditched her sweaty yoga clothes and slipped on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. With her messenger-style camera bag, notebook, sunglasses and ball cap, she was good to go.
The wind blew like crazy, which lessened the sun’s blistering rays. Chalky dust covered her shoes and clothing. She’d arrived in time to see Chase get whipped off a piece of equipment that resembled a gymnastics vault—except a gymnastics vault didn’t spin and tilt.
Chase picked himself up off the thick gym mats.
“Five point nine,” Cash called out. “Better. Go again?”
“Yep.”
Ava moved next to Gemma and draped her arms over the top of the metal fence. “What’s going on?”
“Cash is workin’ Chase on the mechanical bull today. When a rider hasn’t been on a bull for a few weeks, it helps to regain the movement and sense of balance.”
“Is it like being on the real thing?”
“The guys talk about it bein’ similar. Guess the machine is smoother, even set on random intervals.”
She watched as Chase used the rope wrapped around the center of the machine to hoist himself up. “Why is Chase wearing a vest, chaps and spurs just for practice?”
“Because the weight and constriction of clothing needs to be constant. If he gets used to practicing without, it’ll change his balance and movement when he wears it during competition. They try to keep every practice session in line with the real thing.”
When Cash yelled, “Ready?” Ava reached into her camera bag for her video camera.
But Gemma put her hand on Ava’s arm. “No need to tape this. Just watch.”
The mechanical beast jerked, spinning one way and abruptly switching course. The back end popped up. The front end lifted and slammed down. Chase’s feet were flying; his left hand was straight up above his head. His body countered every movement. The next switch set Chase sailing onto the puffy mats.
Ava cringed. That had to hurt.
But Chase didn’t lie there, moaning in pain. He was back on his feet, yelling at Cash for another go.
This went on for an hour until Cash insisted Chase take a break. They huddled in the corner, Cash gesturing wildly and Chase nodding his head.
“How did Cash get started training bull riders?” Ava asked Gemma.
“Cash rode bulls in the PRCA for twenty years. He never won a national championship, which is ironic because if he would’ve competed in the Indian Rodeo circuit, he probably could’ve had multiple championships.”
“He wasn’t tempted to switch circuits?”
Gemma shook her head. “He wanted to be judged on his bull ridin’ ability alongside all other riders, not just those with the same skin color. Then Cash fell on some tough times and couldn’t compete. After we got married, I encouraged him to share his expertise.”
“So is he looking to turn your boys into champion bull riders?”
Gemma peeked at Ava over the tops of her sunglasses. “Over my dead body.”
Ava laughed.
“I’m bringing sandwiches down for the guys in a bit. You want one?”
“Sure. I’ll take mine on whole grain bread, with low-fat mayo, goat cheese and organic sliced turkey. And I’d like avocado, sprouts and cilantro on it too.”
Gemma froze.
Ava burst into laughter. “Hah! Gotcha. Bet you thought I was showing my true Hollywood diva side?”
“Just for that, I’m making you peanut butter and jelly. And don’t even ask me to cut off the crusts.”
Chase had been scarce yesterday after tangling with the mechanical bull and helping Cash in the afternoon. Ava suspected he’d gone to bed early because his body hurt, but he claimed fatigue, not soreness, and she let it go.
Midmorning, Ava headed for the corral to start her duties as videographer and noticed more kids hanging on the rails. “So, Gemma, did you lock up your other kids in the woodshed yesterday?”
Gemma snickered. “These are Cash’s grandkids. Thane—” she pointed to the older boy who looked about six, wearing a Colorado Rockies ball cap, “—and Parker.” Parker wore a coonskin cap. Gemma whispered, “Parker is in his pioneer phase and refuses to take the hat off. It’s about to drive his mother crazy. Which is probably why Macie sent the older kids along with their dad today.” Gemma gestured to the chute across the way. “Their dad, Carter, is helpin’ Cash load bulls.”
“Carter,” Ava repeated. “I think I met him at Kane and Ginger’s wedding.”
“Probably. He’s married to Cash’s daughter. He’s also Chase’s cousin.”
“I’ll never keep this all straight.”
“Took me a while too. Don’t know what the hell those women were thinkin’ with all the C and K names in the McKay family.” Ryder raced off and Gemma yelled, “Huh-uh, buddy boy. Get back here. Daddy doesn’t want you by those bulls today.”
“Aw, Mom, that’s not fair.”
“Tough. Stay by me or go in the house.”
Ryder sighed. Kicked a clump of dirt and scaled the metal rails like a monkey.
“Looks like Chase’s about to leave the chute. You ready?”
“All set.” Ava’s hat shaded the worst of the sun’s glare.
A man inside the arena opened the gate. The bull erupted from the chute, all four hooves airborne. Chase’s entire body jerked forward as the bull’s front legs landed. Then the beast twisted its back end, trying to throw Chase off. Somehow he stayed on. But the bull’s next spin sent Chase sailing into the air and he collided with the ground.
The neck strap caught the camera as Ava lurched forward, shocked at seeing Chase lying on the ground. Motionless. The gate opener was leading the bull out another gate, ignoring Chase completely. “Why isn’t someone helping him?” She began to scale the metal corral.
“Hold on.” Gemma tugged her back down, forcing Ava to meet her gaze. “You’ve never actually seen bull ridin’, have you?”
“No! I thought it’d be like yesterday, with the mechanical thingy. Not like this. Not with him really getting hurt.”
“Ava. Honey. Bull ridin�
�� is an extremely dangerous sport. Bulls are highly unpredictable. There is no control factor. And these bulls that Chase is trying to ride? Real wild cards because most of them haven’t been ridden. We have no idea how the bull is gonna react until it’s tested out.” Her worried eyes searched Ava’s. “Chase knew that goin’ into these stock trials. Didn’t he tell you the dangers? What you might see?”
Ava shook her head.
“Didn’t you watch any bull ridin’ on TV before you agreed to tape him?”
“I saw a video on YouTube. But it’s nothing like watching this live, with the horns and the hooves, and the sickening sound of his body smashing into the ground.” Ava pressed her hand against her lower abdomen. “I…I don’t have the stomach for this, Gemma.”
“Sure you do.”
“What if he gets hurt? Like really badly hurt?”
“That’s a risk. That’s also part of the appeal for men who do this for a livin’. You must understand that about Chase, Ava. This is who he is. Ridin’ bulls is not only his job, but also his passion. He’s reached the highest level of the sport and you don’t get to that position without bein’ a damn good athlete.” She rubbed Ava’s arm. “See? He’s already up and goin’ back for more.”
As much as Ava didn’t want to look, she couldn’t help it. Sure enough, the fringe on Chase’s chaps flapped as he hustled back to the chute.
The guy at the gate yelled, “I’m thinkin’ that one’s a keeper, Cash, if it threw boy wonder on his ass.”
Male laughter echoed back.
“That’s Colby,” Gemma said. “Carter’s older brother and Chase’s cousin. He got here early this morning.”
“Colby knows rodeo stock?”
Gemma nodded. “Cash and Colby competed on the same PRCA circuit for years. They quit around the same time, but the love of rodeo never really left them. They’ve been buying and breeding bucking bulls for a couple years. We’re doing things pretty unconventionally regarding stock trials. Seemed a sign Chase needed help with his ridin’ the same time Cash and Colby needed an experienced rider to test new bulls.”
Male shouts competed with the loud clanks.
“That one’s a chute fighter,” Gemma offered. “Which is problematic. They’ll let him fight until he settles down. But he could be too tired to buck and they won’t have an accurate idea of his bucking ability. After Chase rides him today, they’ll probably need a re-ride tomorrow to see how he performs. A bull that’s a chute fighter is an extra danger to the rider. A lot of injuries happen before the gate opens.”
“Does that thing he’s wearing, a modified catcher’s mask, prevent that?”
“Not all riders wear those protective helmets, but Cash makes them mandatory here.”
More loud sounds of flesh hitting steel and male warning shouts.
“Is Chase on the bull right now?”
“God no. They’re waitin’ to see if the bull calms down.” She pointed to the camera. “You oughta be getting this on tape.”
Eventually the huge bull, an ugly two-toned yellowish white with splotches of brown, calmed down. Chase secured his hand, nodded to Colby. Once again, Chase didn’t reach the eight-second mark before his ass met the dirt. A less forceful buck off than the last one, but the power when his body impacted into the ground had to rattle his bones and jostle his brain.
The idea of Chase constantly being subjected to skull fractures from a horn or a hoof to the head made bile rise in her throat. She bent down and retrieved the water bottle from her messenger bag. Sipping the lukewarm liquid slowly, half-afraid she’d toss her cookies, half-tempted to force herself to hurl so she had a valid excuse to leave.
Suck it up. You willingly signed on for this and you can’t quit the first day.
Ella tugged on her pant leg. “Miss Ava? Will you play with the kitties with me?”
Sure, kid. Let’s go right now.
Gemma squeezed Ella’s shoulders. “Maybe later, sweets. Ava is taping Chase’s rides so he can watch ’em tonight.”
“’Kay.” Ella raced to the old barn.
“How come she gets to go somewhere but I can’t?” Ryder complained.
“Because she could care less about the bulls. You, my curious son, would be back there pullin’ Chase’s bull rope if you had the chance. Here we go.”
Ava resituated the camera.
Come on, Chase. Ride this one.
The gate opened, the bull shot out like a rocket, zigging and zagging. Halfway across the arena, Chase bailed off, slipping sideways and landing on his hands and knees. Even from this distance she could see the hard set to his jaw, the stiff angle to his shoulders. He yelled, “Set ’em up again. A big one this time.”
Gemma said, “You know, it’d help if we recorded the buck-off times.”
“Good idea. There’s a notebook in my bag.”
Bull number five leapt out of the chute like a two thousand pound ballet dancer and Chase went flying like a trapeze artist from Cirque du Soleil. He rolled to his feet after he landed on his shoulder. Dust followed behind him, à la Pigpen from Peanuts as he moseyed to the fence. Ava snickered, until she zoomed in on Chase’s pained face. He was hurt. But that wouldn’t stop him.
How many more bulls would he get on today?
All of them, until he rode at least one.
Another hour passed. Then two. Chase stayed on bull number sixteen the full eight seconds. She didn’t get caught up in the clapping and whistles from Gemma, the kids and the guys because she was too busy taping the triumphant look on Chase’s face.
Did he quit after that?
No.
He climbed on three more bulls. Rode two of them. Bull number twenty was another chute fighter. By the time the bull settled down, she could hear Cash and Carter yelling at Chase to take a break. He shook his head, bounced around on the bull’s back and nodded at Colby.
It was apparent how not ready Chase was when the bull turned sharply, kicking out his rear end so powerfully that the rope jerked from Chase’s hand. Chase did a flip midair before he crashed into the corral.
But did the Man of Steel stay down, wallowing in pain? Nope. He staggered to his feet. Holding the metal fence rails for support, he limped across the dirt, waving off Colby’s help as they disappeared into the barn.
“That’ll do it for today,” Gemma said. “You comin’ up to the house to eat with us, Ava?”
“No. Thanks for asking, I’m sure it’ll be great, but it takes awhile to edit this. I imagine Chase will want to look at the footage later, so I’d better get started on it.”
As soon as Ava was inside the bunkhouse, she locked the door, shut the window, pulled the curtains and flopped on her bed. Blessedly cool. Blessedly dark.
The tears came before she could stop them.
And she wasn’t exactly sure why she was crying. Wasn’t like she’d gotten thrown around like a rag doll twenty times. Her occupation didn’t lend itself to danger. Maybe she’d get a paper cut from script pages. Or possibly she’d burn her mouth on a cup of coffee. Or she might have an allergic reaction to makeup. But nothing remotely life-threatening.
Talk about being out of her element on so, so many levels.
She’d never dated professional athletes, so she hadn’t ever witnessed that mindset and mix of physical perfection and determination needed to push to the highest level. She witnessed that drive in Chase today. It scared her to death.
So did this desolate feeling stem from fear for Chase?
No. Hers was fear of the unknown.
Out here in the real world? People dealt with serious hazards every day. Hazards she never even considered in her tidy universe, where out of sight, out of mind wasn’t just a saying but a way of life.
Ava let her gaze wander around the bunkhouse. She’d seen the wary way Gemma, Cash and even Chase had looked at her, expecting to see disgust on her face about the primitive accommodations. Right now, where she rested her head at night was the least of her concerns. For all her bold
talk about experiencing real life, she didn’t know if she could handle it.
And didn’t that make her spoiled? She had the luxury of packing up her stuff and escaping if she so chose. These people didn’t.
So what was the appeal to sustain this way of life? When it was comprised of backbreaking work, extreme temperatures, isolation and daily physical danger? There didn’t appear to be monetary gain. Was it the satisfaction of besting the elements and the animals year after year?
The only way she’d glean the tiniest bit of understanding would be to stick it out. Figure it out. Maybe by doing that, she’d find her way. Because one thing she had figured out? She was more than a little lost in her own life, regardless of her physical location.
Her thoughts drifted back to her sleeplessness last night and her flash of understanding of how important it was for Chase to prove he could keep the “no sex” promise he’d made to himself. Who was she to try and change his mind? Just because she wanted to prove that she had the mad skills to keep a man sexually satisfied? Chase ought to fall into bed with her?
Talk about diva-ish expectations.
Needing to sort out her emotions, she snagged her notebook and flipped on the desk lamp. She scrawled random thoughts, suggestions, ideas. Gibberish mostly, but she finally felt a measure of control. She was being honest on the page, not writing snarkily, or trying to be hip, or funny, but being real.
Ava also realized she’d never really know Chase except on a superficial level unless she studied his obsession and profession from a different angle. Not from fear, but from curiosity. She turned on her computer and searched for Chase McKay’s previous year’s rides, creating a separate disk with those, so he could compare then and now.
Time got away from her as she edited, copied folders and burned a DVD, so the knock on the bunkhouse door startled her. Sweet Ella stood on the porch, bouncing with impatience. “You still wanna go see the kitties?”
She could use a mental break. “Sure.”
They messed with the balls of fluff until Gemma called Ella for supper. When Ava returned to the bunkhouse, she noticed Chase was in the bathroom. Now was her chance to get the disks up to the house without running into him. She needed time to figure out how to deal with these conflicting feelings, whether the emotional price of ditching her normal life was worth it for the short term. She couldn’t avoid him for long, but she intended to try.
Chasin' Eight: Rough Riders, Book 12 Page 10