by Sable Hunter
The barrel racing competition began with a flourish, but Tamara found herself a bit distracted. She kept having hot flashes of memory, erotic scenes of her and Jaxson making love. Him holding himself over her, bucking and thrusting, filling her full over and over again.
“Whew!” she whispered just as the announcer repeated a familiar name.
“Welcome Chelsea Stanhope, Houston socialite, former Rodeo Queen, and a world class athlete.”
Tamara silently scoffed, wishing she could get Chelsea alone on a track and chase her until she begged for mercy. As the woman in question shot from the chute on a horse named Rhymer, Tamara glanced at the empty seat next to her and vowed to be nice for Jaxson’s sake. Despite her wish to do otherwise, she found herself watching Chelsea ride. “Dammit, she’s good.” In fact, the way the horse and rider worked together, moving as one, was extraordinarily beautiful. When the event was over, and she learned Chelsea’s time had bested everyone else, Tamara wasn’t surprised.
The woman was a great athlete.
The next competition was bronc riding. Tamara marveled as the announcer painted an intriguing picture with his words. “Riding a bucking bronc is like taking the ultimate amusement park ride – bumper cars and an extreme rollercoaster ride all rolled into one.”
Although, Jaxson wasn’t competing in this event, the cowboys and their reluctant mounts were a type of poetry in motion, seemingly completely in sync – until one of them bested the other. She found herself clutching the seat at her side, imagining what it must feel like to be on top of something so large and strong, something that did everything they could to expel you from their back like a stone from a trebuchet.
“Tamara!”
Chelsea’s voice pulled her attention back to the forefront like she’d stepped on a thorn. “Hello!”
The pretty brunette gave her a wan smile. “I know I told Jaxson I’d sit with you.” She pointed a few rows down. “I didn’t know one of my best friends would be here.”
“Oh, go, please, that’s fine,” Tamara told her, returning Chelsea’s finger waggle to her half-hearted farewell.
“See you later.”
Bad Tamara whispered in her head, not if I see you first. Good Tamara parroted, “See you later,” followed by a sigh of relief.
Two or three rides later, Tamara was tapping her toe to Mama’s Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys. “Let them be doctors and lawyers…” she sang, then giggled as someone looked over their shoulder at her with a disapproving stare. “Sorry.” Boredom wasn’t her problem. She was antsy to see Jaxson again.
Good things come to those who wait.
The next event was calf roping. To her delight, and the rest of the crowd’s, Jaxson was the first one up. She marveled at how sexy he looked, barreling out of the shoot on Memphis, following a steer who was determined not to be caught. With masculine grace, he slung the lasso in the air and like magic, it flew to land around the animal’s neck. Jaxson jumped off Memphis and onto the steer. Tamara laughed with amazement when the horse set back on the rope, holding it taut so his master could wrestle the steer to the ground and tie off its legs quick as a flash. With a flourish, he threw up his hands and stood up to the roar of the crowd.
“Eight point six seconds is the time to beat!” the announcer barked.
Tamara waited to see if Jaxson would acknowledge her and when he did, she beamed. Several people craned to look at her and she felt proud as a peacock to be noticed by the sexy cowboy. He’s mine! She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs.
One after another, the other calf ropers were put through their paces. After glancing at the program, Tamara saw that there were two more events before Jaxson would reappear on the back of a bull. “I think I’ll go to the restroom,” she whispered, then looked around, dismayed to see how far she’d have to go. “Oh, well. Don’t have a choice.”
As she made her way to the top of the stairs where the hall to the circular lobby was located, Tamara kept her eyes on the steps. All she needed was to stumble and fall, breaking something and getting knocked out of the Ironman competition. On the other hand, she could stay with Jaxson a little longer. Shaking her head at her own silliness, she continued on her quest to relieve her complaining bladder.
“Look, there she is.”
“God, what does he see in her?”
“I don’t know. Jaxson is so out of her league.”
She jerked her head up at the mention of Jaxson’s name. A few seconds passed before she realized the comments were directed toward her. After meeting Chelsea and another brunette’s laughing eyes, Tamara turned her head and stomped off. “The nerve of those bitches!” Yes, she could say that to herself, never to anyone else.
When she made it to the bathroom, she did her business, then went to the mirror to wash her hands. Studying her reflection, a kernel of doubt took root in her heart. Chelsea was probably right. Jaxson was out of her league in many ways. Still…she remembered how he touched her, the warmth of his smile, the tenderness of his kiss. “Tough. He’s with me now. I’ll enjoy this as long as it lasts.”
And when it’s over… Well, she wouldn’t think about that at the moment.
…Back in her seat, she studied the program, counting the moments until the bull riding event. This would be followed by the concert. She planned on leaving it up to Jaxson whether they stayed for it or left. She liked Garth Brooks - - but she liked Jaxson better. Tamara would just as soon go back and spend the remainder of the night in his arms.
When the MC introduced the bull riding event, chill bumps bloomed all over Tam’s body. She was nervous.
“Bull riding is a synergetic sport – a pairs competition in which both partners are trying to best the other one, like figure skating with an axe murderer – the cowboy is the figure skater and the bull is the crazed psycho.” He laughed at his own joke. “The goal of the cowboy is to stay on the back of the monsters for eight seconds. He’ll earn up to fifty points for his own performance and fifty points for the bull’s. The meaner the bull, the higher the score.”
This did not make Tamara feel any better.
By the time she’d suffered through three rides, watching cowboys get slung around like ragdolls, she was fit to be tied. The exuberant MC didn’t help things.
“Don’t feel bad for Hiram Jenkins. He just bit off more than he could chew. That bull, folks, is rodeo’s Gronk, one of a kind. He weighs eighteen hundred and can jump as high as the fence. Look at those bunched shoulders and the thick veins ridging the muscles. He specializes in back kicks, spins, and a great big belly roll. In the past two years, Stone Cold Killer has bucked off twenty-two out of twenty-three riders, most of them in under five seconds.”
She held her breath when the moment she’d been dreading came.
“Next up is Jaxson McCoy,” the announcer’s voice came booming over the loud speaker. The raucous rodeo crowd immediately grew silent. “I know for many of you, Jaxson is as much of a draw as Garth. This cowboy is a favorite on the circuit. He’s a big man to be a bull rider. At six-foot-four inches and two-hundred-fifty pounds, McCoy makes the bulls work for their living.”
The women in the audience were on their feet, all of them wanted to catch a glimpse of the handsome cowboy. The unseen man in the booth continued his introduction of Jaxson's ride. “We’ve got a record crowd tonight, folks. Everyone is eager to see if this bull rider will be the one to master the brutal Bocephus, son of the legendary Bodacious. He’s as dangerous as his father. No cowboy has managed to successfully stay on this monster bull for the full eight seconds. He's put five men in the hospital, the rest of them on their keister. Bocephus hasn't been conquered in four years.”
Jaxson sat on the hulking, red Beefmaster halfway listening to the broadcaster build up interest in his ride. He hadn’t told Tamara what bull he drew, he hadn’t wanted her to worry more than necessary. This competition wasn’t only about big money, it was about bragging rights. There were many who wanted him to win
and more than a few who’d love to see him fall flat of his ass. He, for one, voted for surviving. Squeezing his legs around the heaving sides of the bull, he well knew the moment the gate flew open, the vicious animal would become a hurricane of deadly hooves and horns.
A breathless silence fell on the stadium as Jaxson performed his normal ritual, whispering a familiar bit of the Good Book from memory. He wasn’t exactly the religious type, but there were things his mother had taught him that stuck – and this was one of those things. “Fear not, for I am with you, be not dismayed, for I am your God, I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” As the last word faded on his lips, the chute sprang open and Jaxson’s whole world exploded into overdrive. Bocephus was a solid ton of pure energy. With violent, vicious twists the huge bull launched himself into the air and slung his entire body weight first to the left and then to the right. Jaxson moved instinctively with the bull, knowing the only way he would ride out this perfect storm would be by defying a formidable force of nature.
Allowing his mind to become perfectly still, Jaxson visualized himself as an extension of the animal’s body. He didn't fight the pitch and roll of the deadly bull but anticipated the direction Bocephus would lunge and went with it. No matter how you count it, this was eight seconds of teeth-jarring, muscle-wrenching, mind-blowing adrenaline rush.
When the air horn blasted, Jaxson could hear the jubilation of his fans. Not one who chose to wear a helmet, he waved his trade-mark white Stetson in the air. Mixed in with the noise of the crowd, he could hear the female version of catcalls from the buckle bunnies. Too bad. Tonight, he wasn’t interested in hooking up with any of them. There was someone waiting for him in the stands. As he bailed off Bocephus, side-stepping the razor-sharp set of horns swiping out at him, he thanked heaven for the bull fighters who risked their lives distracting the enraged beast.
As Bocephus danced off to one side, Jaxson looked up in the stands to Tamara and held up his hat, giving her a wink and a promise. “For you, beautiful!” he called out.
Tamara waved back, thrilled at the sight. From where she sat, she could see the whole stadium – and what she saw made her blood run cold. The big bull had run off to one side, avoiding the clowns who were striving to drive him back into the pen. Instead, he headed straight for Jaxon. “Jaxson!” she screamed. Others saw what she saw, and they too began to scream. “Jaxson! Look behind you!”
He didn’t get the chance to turn around. Before he could react, the big bull hit him in the back hard enough to knock him down. He was still breathing, nothing was broken – but when he looked up, it was to see that Bocephus had vaulted into the air and was about to come down – right on top of him.
Tamara screamed!
Time froze.
For Jaxson, there wasn’t even time to pray. Before he knew it, the bull came down, his front hooves landing on Jaxson’s right leg. As he gasped, he heard the bones pop before he felt the agonizing pain – and blacked out.
* * *
“Excuse me, excuse me, I have to get to him. Excuse me.” Tamara fought her way through the stands as people stood to try and see what was going on. The big bovine was contained, while two bull fighters and a medic were checking Jaxson out. She was finding it hard to breathe. How bad was he hurt? She felt like her heart was paralyzed, she wasn’t even sure it was beating. “Jaxson!” she cried out.
To her surprise someone grabbed her arm. “Come on, I’ll get you down there.” Shocked, she realized Chelsea was helping her find a way onto the arena floor.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, he’s my friend. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
Her words didn’t surprise Tamara. Now, wasn’t the time for conflict.
Together, they ran over to where Jaxson lay on the dirt. He was moaning, a sound that made Tamara want to cry. “Chelsea, he’s hurt!”
The barrel racer drew her close and together they came as near to Jaxson as they could without getting in the way of the people who were trying to help him.
“How is he, Tom?” Chelsea asked one of the men.
“His leg is busted. We’re about to load him up.”
They eased Jaxson onto the stretcher and the women followed them out of the arena and down a narrow hall toward the waiting ambulance.
“Who’s coming with us?”
“I’ll go,” Chelsea spoke up quickly.
“No, I want Tamara,” Jaxson muttered through gritted teeth.
There was a pause, then Chelsea pushed Tamara forward. “Yea, she’s going with him.” She squeezed Tam’s arm. “My number is on his phone. You’d better damn well call me as quick as you know anything.”
“I will.” Tamara promised as she climbed into the back of the waiting vehicle. Everything seemed surreal and tears flowed from her eyes, obscuring her vision. After the EMT stabilized Jaxon on the gurney, Tamara knelt by his side. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hell, baby, the bastard jumped me.”
Her lip trembled. “Yea, he did. Do you hurt?”
“Like a son-of-a-bitch.”
“We’ll get you fixed up soon, we’re headed to the nearest emergency room,” the attendant told them. “They’ll set your leg and give you enough painkillers to make you a happy man.”
“Do you want me to call your family?” Tamara asked with concern.
“No. Hell, no.” Jaxson let out a long, pained breath. “If I had to listen to Heath and his I told you so’s tonight, I’d completely lose it.”
…A couple of hours later, the EMT’s prophecy had come true. The break had been serious but wouldn’t require surgery. Jaxson would be in a cast and on crutches for a couple of months. Once Tamara was updated, she called Chelsea and asked if she wouldn’t mind coming after them. Jaxson wasn’t out of it, but the meds he’d been given wouldn’t allow him to drive even if he was able to.
“Sure, hang tight. I’ll be right there.”
By the time all the paperwork was taken care of, Chelsea had arrived to give them a ride back to the park. “Why don’t you two come to my apartment for the night?”
“No.” Jaxson was emphatic. “I need to get to Memphis.”
“I’ve already taken care of your horse,” Chelsea informed him calmly. “He’s safely in your trailer for the night.”
Tamara stood by quietly while a nurse helped Jaxson into a wheelchair and began to roll him toward the elevator. She was thankful for the presence of Jaxson’s old friend. She would’ve been lost without her.
“I want to go home,” Jaxson announced without preamble as they eased the wheelchair up to Chelsea’s father’s comfortable Lexus sedan. “If I can’t ride, there’s no use to stay here.”
Chelsea was patient as she helped Tamara load him into the backseat, then store the wheelchair in the trunk. “We’ll call your family when we get home.”
“No. I want to go home tonight. Tamara can drive me back to Highlands.” He looked at her. “Tamara, will you take me home?”
Thinking fast, she decided she could change her airline flight. There was an extra day built into her itinerary. She could spare the time. “Sure, I’ll drive you home tonight if you want to go.”
Chelsea laughed as she slid behind the wheel, giving Tamara time to climb into the front passenger seat. Checking Jaxson in the rearview mirror, she grinned at Tam. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to spoil him. Then none of us will be able to stand him.”
Tamara sighed, relieved that he was out of the hospital and they had a plan. “That’s okay, he deserves a little spoiling.” She turned around to check on Jaxson and found him fast asleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Driving Jaxson’s rig through the metropolis of Houston was a nightmare. The only thing that saved her sanity was the fact it was the middle of the night and traffic wasn’t very heavy. She’d never driven a vehicle pulling a trailer before and she kept taking turns too short, running the back wheels of the gooseneck over curbs. Once, sh
e’d pulled over in the parking lot of a Walmart to check on the horse. She was afraid she’d injured him with all the bouncing around. Thankfully, he seemed unhurt and fairly calm. Thank God, his owner was still sleeping, groggy from the pain medication they’d given him.
Back behind the wheel, she headed northwest out of the city toward the Texas Hill Country. The drive would take about four and half hours and it would be morning by the time they made it to Jaxson’s ranch. Once she was out of Houston and on a main thoroughfare, her nerves settled down enough for her to think. Tamara took a deep breath and glanced over at Jaxson, who lay with his seat reclined and pushed back as far as it would go, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his jeans cut to the knee to make room for the cast. The boot the doctor had removed from his foot sat on the console between them. Ostrich skin. Expensive. Tam’s heart contracted at the memory of the bull stomping Jaxson. Truth be told, he could’ve been hurt so much worse, even killed.
Her hands shook a little on the wheel. Just a few days ago, she hadn’t known Jaxson McCoy existed and now he was more important to her than she could’ve ever expected. Before going to meet him in Houston, she’d had her doubts about the wisdom of making the trip. After all, they didn’t really know one another. Yes, there’d been an instant, white-hot physical attraction between them, but sometimes chemistry fizzled out.
“Not our problem,” she whispered.
What they shared hadn’t fizzled, it had exploded. In just a couple of days, Tamara shared a level of intimacy with Jaxson she hadn’t known possible. Their agreement had been to meet and for her to leave on Monday. No firm plans, no expectations.
Yet, her heart was full of expectations.
Monday would soon be upon them, and as far as she was concerned…everything had changed. She’d developed feelings, deep feelings for this man. And seeing his pain, and suffering with him, only validated those feelings. She would still have to leave for New Zealand on Monday – but when she left, she’d be leaving a little bit of her heart behind.