by Sable Hunter
“Right.” As he pulled on his own clothes, his heart contracted at her playfulness. “Do you like breakfast tacos?”
“Love them,” she assured him, her eyes watching Jaxson as closely as he studied her. “I’m game for anything you want to try.”
“Huh.” His dick, of course, reacted to her comment. “Anything?”
She nodded. “Pretty much, yea.”
“I’ll hold you to that notion, I won’t forget.” He held out his hand. “Come on, let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into.”
“All right. I’m game.” Tamara wanted to cram in as many memories as possible with Jaxson before their time was complete.
* * *
After a meal of delicious breakfast tacos, they strolled hand in hand over the grounds of the complex – taking in the sights and people watching. “Do you want to see the cattle sale?”
“Sure!” She cupped her hand around his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I love animals.”
He guided her toward the big exhibition hall. “I think it’s Simmentals today.”
“What kind of cattle do you raise on your ranch?”
“Beefmaster, Red Brangus, and Longhorn.”
“How many do you have?”
“Oh, right now, about a thousand head.”
“Wow. Is your ranch big?” she asked, then laughed. “It’d have to be large to hold that many animals.”
“Yea, it’s a decent size. Some of it borders Lake Buchanan. We call it Highlands, because it encompasses some steep cliffs and foothills. Beautiful country. Can’t wait for you to see it.”
She couldn’t wait either. He kept hinting their association was just beginning, but she couldn’t help but remember how he’d told her he was allergic to commitment. “What’s your favorite Christmas memory?”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Topic change?”
They were standing in a line that didn’t seem to be moving, so she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I just want to know everything I can about you.”
He cradled her to him, ignoring the knowing looks he was getting from other men who wished they were in his boots. “Well, my favorite memory isn’t a childhood memory, although I loved the Christmases with my mom. She went all out with the decorating and the cooking…” His voice trailed off. “Remembering all of that sort of makes me sad.”
“Awww.” She kissed his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“No, that’s okay.” He wound a strand of her hair around his finger. “Year before last, we had a really good holiday. Dad was on the mend, the family businesses were doing well, and it was before anybody got their heart broken or was arrested for murder.” Jaxson chuckled at the grimace on Tam’s face. “Hold on, I’m getting there.” They moved up a step or two in line. “We all love to pick at Heath, you’ll find out why.” Jaxson laughed. “He’s just so grumpy. Anyway, it was Christmas Eve morning and we were out hunting on a lease not too far from the ranch. There was an outhouse there for our use and Heath went in to take care of his morning constitutional. The night before, he’d eaten a whole cheese ball by himself, so his logs were jammed.”
“Oh, no,” Tamara giggled, anticipating what was to come. “What did you do?”
“He’d been in there awhile and we got tired of waiting. Ten wanted to tip it over with Heath inside, but I decided to take him for a ride.” He laughed at the memory. “The outhouse was already resting on a slide, so it could be moved easily. I put a block in the latch, so he couldn’t open the door from the inside, hooked a chain to the slide, and Ten started pulling the outhouse – with Heath still in it – down the road.”
“Jaxson, you didn’t!”
“I did.” He chuckled and took off his hat, slapping the Stetson against his thigh. “You should have heard him. Hey, what’s going on? I’m moving! Let me out of here! I’m going to get you dumb asses!” By this time, Jaxson was laughing, Tamara was laughing, as well as everyone else in the line who could hear the story being told. “As he and the outhouse went by, we could hear one more desperate call. Where are we going?”
“I bet you were in trouble when Heath finally got free of his makeshift prison.” She petted him on the chest, enjoying this teasing side of him.
“Yea, good thing it was Christmas. What’s your favorite holiday memory?” They were approaching the arena bleachers and Jaxson gave the ticket-taker his rodeo pass.
“Remember when I told you about my friend who would always say ‘for true’?” She accepted his hand as they climbed the bleachers and found a good seat to watch the cattle sale.
“Yea, Donna. Wasn’t that her name?”
“Yes! She couldn’t believe he remembered…then her smile turned sad. “Donna lived across the street from me when I was growing up. My mother was her special education teacher.”
“What was wrong with her?” He held her hand even after they sat down, his head leaning close to hers, so he could hear her over the drone of the crowd.
“She had Downs syndrome.”
“Had?” He frowned and squeezed her hand, afraid of what he was about to hear.
“Yea, she passed away when she was sixteen and I was a freshman in college. We played together when we were young, but I grew away from her, I guess you could say. One day my mother brought it to my attention that Donna would stand outside and watch me come and go. She thought I ought to spend some time with her. I didn’t really want to, but I did as my mother asked.” Tamara smiled and shrugged. “Now, I’m glad I did. She was a joy. After that, I tried to make time for her every week even though my father didn’t like it. He hated for me to do anything that took my attention away from my training.”
“Your dad sounds like a trip.” Jaxson didn’t like the idea of anyone making Tamara feel bad.
“Oh, he has his good points, I guess.” She noticed people were gathering on the stage in the center of the arena. “Anyway, my favorite Christmas memory was the year Donna gave me her most precious possession.”
“What was that?”
“She wrote a story for me in a notebook, even drew pictures to illustrate it. She titled the little book My Friend. I was amazed at how insightful it was. She wrote about two girls and how much they loved one another. The tale tells all the fun things they do together. Only as the story unfolds do you find out one of the friends is special needs and by that time the reader realizes how being different doesn’t affect how they feel about one another.”
“What happened to her, babe?”
Tamara was quite for a moment. “She died in her sleep, congenital heart disease.”
Jaxson hugged her close. “Look.” He pointed to the arena where they were rolling out a red carpet.
“What’s going on?”
“The cattle who are being auctioned off will walk out in style.” He accepted a pamphlet from a man who was passing them out. “See, this is the program.” He let her look at it as one after another, large cows and bulls were allowed to parade by the crowd.
Tamara was transfixed by the spectacle and the information in her hand. For each animal that passed by there was a page in the catalog detailing their pedigree and all of their vital statistics. “Each one has a name.”
“Right, this group is royalty in the bovine world. They’re so calm because they’ve never had anything to fear, they’ve never been chased, or hit, or mistreated a day in their lives.”
“I don’t hear anyone placing a bid.”
Jaxson looked around. “All of the buyers are preapproved, and they were issued special tablets when they arrived. They’re logging in their bids, which will be monitored in the sales office. Most of the folks in this room are just here to see the cattle and to support the judging that happens next.”
“Judging?”
“Just wait, you’ll see.”
Tamara wasn’t sure what he meant, but she enjoyed the atmosphere and she liked watching the animals. “How much do they sell for?”
“Depends. Most go fo
r several thousand a piece. Some of the bulls bring ten times that amount.”
“Gracious, I’m impressed.”
While they watched, Jaxson procured them drinks, a beer for him and a margarita for her. Soon, the registered cattle auction was over, and the next phase of the show began. To Tamara’s delight, young people began leading beautiful animals into the ring. Red ones with white faces. Some a beautiful golden color. Others all black and shiny as satin.
“These are show cattle,” Jaxson explained. “These kids come from all over the state. They’ve won contests back in their hometown or area rodeos. They get the calves when they’re just weaned, about three months old, and they raise them by hand. Feeding. Brushing. Taking care of their diet and exercise, and faithfully recording every detail. These represent the best of their breed. The youth compete for scholarship money.”
Tamara was enthralled. “This is fascinating. Just look at their faces. They love their animals.”
This time, there was no bidding. There were judges who went out on the floor of the arena and judged each animal’s form and other characteristics such as weight and composition. “They do. I don’t guess you can care for something that long and that carefully without developing feelings for the steer.”
“How will this work?”
“The cattle will be judged and ranked. Different companies have donated money to go the winners. These children will get a portion for their education and the rest will go into the main scholarship fund. The record for the grand champion steer is six hundred thousand dollars and the reserve grand champion record sale was about half that. The winning competitors will get enough of that prize money to go to college anywhere he or she wants. For the companies or buying groups who fork over the purse, for them it’s a philanthropic write-off.”
Tamara’s eyes bugged. “Damn. I’m competing in the wrong sport. Even if I place first, I’ve never won more than five thousand.”
Jaxson kissed her cheek. “And you’re worth so much more.”
“I am.” She agreed with a nod, then giggled at their conversation. Looking back at the young men and women with their charges, she sighed. “Somebody will be buying some fine cattle. I bet they’ll make beautiful babies.”
She looked at Jaxson, but he didn’t say anything.
“What?”
He shook his head and wiped his mouth. “Tammy, these animals are steers, they’ve been…fixed. They can’t breed.”
“Uh…” She thought a minute. “So…what happens to them?”
He swallowed and spoke softly. “They’ll end up on somebody’s BBQ pit next week.”
“WHAT!?” she yelled at the top of her lungs, getting everyone’s attention.
“Shhh, baby.” He grinned at her outburst. “Calm down.”
“Somebody eats them?!” she whispered loudly to him. “You can’t be serious!”
He spread his hands. “I know it seems bad, but that’s just the way it is. They can’t be used for breeding. At this point, they’re just big pets.”
“Exactly!” Tamara hissed at him. “These animals are pets. If they can’t go home with their owners, they should be living the remainder of their life in some green pasture where folks can visit them and admire them.” She wrung her hands, clearly upset. “They could be therapy animals or… I don’t know! They shouldn’t be someone’s dinner! What if they did the same thing to us? If something happened to us and you couldn’t ride, or I couldn’t run - would we be worthless?”
Jaxson put his arm around her and pulled her in for a hug. “You’re so sweet. Tender heart.” When he looked into her face, he saw her eyes were brimming with tears.
“Jaxson…do something!”
He tried to think. What could he do? He couldn’t afford to pay the fees for these animals, not the amounts the companies were paying for the scholarships. “Tam…”
“Please?”
Looking into her eyes, he could see the faith she had in him. She thought he could move a mountain – and at that moment he wanted to try. For her.
“All right. Maybe I can do something.” He’d get with the buyers and see if they’d sell him the steers at a reasonable price, certainly more than a side of beef was worth. They’d still get the write-off and the publicity, and he’d pay an exorbitant amount for an infertile animal on the hoof. “I can’t promise they’ll all go for it, but I’ll try to buy them.” He tapped her on the nose. “You’ll have to help me find places for them to go. I don’t want to take them all home to Highlands.” Just the thought of explaining this to his brothers made his stomach queasy.
“Oh, thank you, Jaxson!” She threw herself into his arms and hugged him so tight he grunted. “You’re wonderful!”
“You’re welcome, honey.” Geez – what a man would do for love.
Love?
Now, his eyes were wide with surprise.
Where in the hell did that thought come from?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Tamara peppered kisses all over Jaxson’s face. “I am so relieved!” Knowing the show steers were destined for good homes made her so happy she wanted to spin in circles.
“I’m glad.” Jaxson accepted the affection with a satisfied smile. He’d spent the last couple of hours making phone calls to put the plan into motion. Most of the steers would be headed to Highlands Ranch until they could find places for them to go. He’d also contacted his banker to transfer a little extra into his account to cover all the checks he’d be writing to the current owners of the animals. Most were glad to relinquish their claim, some had even passed on the money. “Who knows, this may become a thing. A Houston Chronicle reporter has already gotten wind of the story and I told them to call you.”
“That’s okay. I’ll be glad to talk to them.” She stepped out into the sunshine as she walked through the door of the rodeo’s main office that Jaxson was holding open for her. “Is it time for you to head to the arena?”
“Yea, let’s go get Memphis. I want you to sit in the family section. You’ll have a good view from there. I’ll let Chelsea know to look for you. Maybe you can sit together.”
Tamara didn’t respond, she wasn’t too keen on that idea, but she didn’t intend to hurt Jaxson’s feelings about his friend. “Are you ready to ride?”
“Always.” He winked at her, his hand at her back, his fingers playing up and down the skin exposed by the pink strapless sundress she wore. “I was hoping you could take a ride of your own, but we got caught up in Project Steer Rescue,” he teased.
“Oh, I haven’t ridden a horse in ages. I don’t mind missing out…” After glancing at him, she laughed. “Oh.” She realized from his expression that he’d been talking about sex, not riding a horse for real. “Well, I don’t intend to miss that ride, Mister. I want a rain check.”
“Neither rain, shine, sleet, or snow will keep this U. S. Male, that’s m-a-l-e, from delivering the goods.”
Tamara giggled. “Jaxson, you’re so funny.”
Getting into the spirit of things, he grabbed her and kissed her, singing the refrain from an old Elvis Presley song. “Don’t tamper with the property of the U.S. Male.” He didn’t really understand it, but Jaxson was having the time of his life with this woman. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”
She looked up into his eyes as they moved slowly toward the area where his rig was parked. “Yea, I’m yours tonight.” And every night to come. If he wanted her.
…At the stadium, Tamara sat in the stands near the chutes and gates where the contestants entered the arena. She felt small in the sea of people surrounding her, families mostly. There were scores of youngsters all decked out in cowboy gear, holding a hotdog, or waving their hat in the air to the background music of Toby Keith singing Should’ve Been A Cowboy, Tamara found herself snapping her fingers and swaying to the tune, her blood fizzing with excitement at the prospect of seeing her man strut his stuff at the sport he loved the best. She wondered if he’d ever see her compete,
then she wondered if she’d want him to. Talk about a hot and sweaty mess, to her mind she always looked like a wrung-out dishrag after a race.
The night seemed magical, spotlights were dancing around, colorful banners hanging from the high ceiling. The rows upon rows of spectators blended together in one spectacular cacophony of sights and sounds. When both Dylan and Jaxson had told her how many attended each night of the rodeo, the number had been so large it was hard to comprehend. Now, surrounded by over seventy-thousand people, she should’ve felt small and insignificant – but she didn’t. Tamara wasn’t just a regular attendee, she was the guest and date of one of its most beloved stars. The extent of his popularity became crystal clear when the crowd rose on its feet at his entrance. Tamara joined them, clapping as the opening ceremony began. Mounted cowgirls and cowboys rode into the arena, making the wide circle, the Texas and U. S. flags flying proudly out front. Seeing Chelsea carrying one of those flags came as no surprise. What did surprise and thrill her was the crowd’s reaction when Jaxson came out riding Memphis. They cheered and screamed his name, holding up signs that said, No one rides like the Real McCoy!
As he galloped along the circuitous route, Jaxson waved his hat in the air and when he rode in front of her, he caught her eye and gave her a salute. She was glad she’d found the seat he’d reserved for her, there was no way he’d have found her in the crowd if she hadn’t.
The next couple of hours was rambunctious and fascinating. Tamara sat on the edge of her seat, completely enthralled with the drama and pageantry playing out before her. She was witnessing things she’d never seen before, smells she’d never smelled before – Tam wrinkled her nose, identifying the odor as horse and cow manure. As the MC gave his opening spiel, she just soaked it all in, knowing she wouldn’t forget a moment. When he was finished, and they began to set up for the barrel racing, Tamara let her eyes rove over the maze of pens and chutes full of livestock, cowboys hanging off the rails. She watched for Jaxson, but she didn’t see him. Nevertheless, there was so much going on, she didn’t feel lonely. When no announcements were being made, there was always music. Mama Tried bled into The Hurrier I Go, the Behinder I Get. Tamara grinned at their choice of songs.