Her phone vibrated and she happily answered to avoid additional divulging.
“This is Betsy.”
“Betsy, you worked the rodeo circuit in Texas right?” Bert’s signature gravelly voice asked.
Betsy instantly sucked in her breath. She’d moved north to avoid rodeo stories. The Twin Cities had every professional sport for both men and women and it was a bigger market. The last thing she ever thought she’d hear from her boss was the word rodeo.
“Just because I’m from Texas doesn’t mean I worked rodeos,” she replied with a dry throat.
“Then you should have sent in different tapes when you applied.”
Damn it, how did he remember that. It was over five years ago.
“Fine, yes, I worked the rodeo circuit.”
“I’ve gotten three press releases in the last hour about a bull. Why?”
“What does the release say?” she asked before realizing it came out a little condescending... but duh, read the damn release.
“Something about a bull’s last ride. Why is that important?”
“Probably a prize winner that’s going to be studded out after he’s retired. They’re pretty rare. I’m sure he’s thrown more riders than any currently on the circuit.”
“So what you’re saying is this is a big deal?” Betsy could hear the excitement in Bert’s voice.
“Probably, is this in Vegas or something?”
“No, up North by Brainerd.”
Betsy placed her fingers over her eyes and rubbed, then pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Then I assume it’s not that big. If he was really that big of a deal he wouldn’t be retiring at a local county fair.”
“It’s a stop on the Pro-Classic Rodeo Circuit.”
“In Minnesota?”
“Yes, Virginia... there is a Santa Claus. Do you ever go out-state?”
In most states out-state would mean to a neighboring state, not Minnesota. In Minnesota that meant leaving the seven county metro and no, Betsy saw no reason to venture out. It could be the scary stories of mosquitos carrying off small children that kept her from the great unknown.
“I went with the governor for the fishing opener.”
“That was at White Bear Lake,” Bert’s tone conveyed an eye roll. “I’m talking about going past where the interstate is split.”
Betsy rolled her eyes and rested her head on the headrest.
“We’re almost at the studio. Is there anything else you need?”
“You’re going to go back to your roots.”
“I’m a natural brunette, even the auburn highlights are blessed from the sun gods.”
“Very funny. Over the Fourth of July weekend I need you to cover this rodeo.”
A knot instantly formed in Betsy’s gut and she was sure Ron was doing donuts in the van. Sadly, her assumption was way off. Ron had thrown the van in park a few minutes ago and was watching her.
“I’m allergic to hay and horses.”
“I’ll buy you allergy meds.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t want to do this?” Betsy offered as she sat forward hoping he’d give up. “It is actually a big deal.”
“Already promised the family I’d join them at the cabin.”
Betsy ran her hand over her face and conceded defeat. He was her boss and she was the only idiot on the news team without a cabin somewhere “out-state”.
“Can I bring Ron?”
Ron gave her the stink eye with his left eyebrow raised. She waved him off.
“I don’t care. That’s up to him, not me. I only control your movements.”
Betsy bit her bottom lip to stop herself from telling Bert where he could stick his comment.
“You know there won’t be a hotel room for miles.”
“Already booked.”
“Then why did you even ask?”
“I can always cancel a reservation. Pack your bags and dust off your cowboy boots.”
His happy tone was not helping her desire to beat the crap out of him. She hung up and looked at Ron.
“You didn’t have plans this weekend right?”
“I had at least six plans.”
“Bring them with. In fact, buy a twelve pack. I might need some to make it through this.”
“Where are we going?”
“North. A rodeo. And if I remember the name right, it’s a long one.”
*****
JT Long loaded Smash and Crash into the back of his horse trailer. He had a full thermos of coffee from the latest No-Tell Motel in Minot, ND and he was ready for the seven-hour drive to Brainerd. It would be his last rodeo, or at least the last one he was going to travel to. He might help out locally once he got the farm settled, but he’d had enough adrenaline pumping through his veins for a thousand lifetimes.
The injuries, late nights, and buckle bunnies had lost their shine in the last couple of years. Rodeo had given and taken everything from him. Well, his dumb assed reaction to the circuit cost was to blame too.
“We about ready?” Sunshine Parker yawned from the passenger seat. His blond hair stuck out from the bottom of his baseball cap as he curled into a ball with his journal held close like a teddy bear.
“I didn’t mean to wake you by loading the horses, gear and everything else into the vehicle,” JT chided.
“Yes, but you didn’t load me. Walked here and buckled up with minimal prodding.”
“And by minimal you mean I didn’t have to throw a bucket of ice on you this morning.”
“See, minimal.”
Sunshine had been JT’s best friend for over two decades. Even with three sons to help, the Long ranch was large and needed extra hands. Sunshine had showed up with his daddy one day when JT was little. Come hell or high water they’d become inseparable.
Two and a half hours of sunflowers and cattle was slowly turning into wheat and corn as they cut across North Dakota toward the border. A small filling station provided a hose to help water the horses and facilities to aid JT in the creation of a thermos full of coffee.
Sunshine was now back in the land of the living and that made the next few hours as they crossed into Minnesota more enjoyable.
“Who’s going to rescue me?” Sunshine teased. “You know you’re the only man I’ll jump on a horse with.”
“So not true,” JT replied. “Three stops ago you hopped on with Clint.”
“You were half asleep on Smash that day.”
“True. That probably was smart on your part.”
They sat in silence for a few miles while Sunshine scribbled in his journal.
“I’m going for it, JT,” Sunshine said, followed by a hard swallow.
“Going for what?”
“Yankee, I’m gonna bull ride.”
“Yankee Scum? You’ve never professionally rode a bull, just in practice and that didn’t go well.”
“The pot is over ten-grand.”
“You got the two hundred you need to put in on it?”
Sunshine glared at JT. It was a legitimate question. JT had to lock away over half of Sunshine’s winnings so he’d have money at the end of the month.
“Okay, but you could end up with another bull.”
“I’m only riding on the last night. If the money’s won the first two nights I won’t enter. Plus, I heard Mr. Johnson is goin’ to add another grand if he is ridden in the finals.”
“Yeah, but you still will only have a one in twenty chance of getting him... wait the last night?”
“Yes, that’s the only night when I have a sure chance for him.”
“If you get in the finals and if your score is the highest of the two finalists you’ll have a chance.”
“Okay, so I gotta ride two bulls then,” Sunshine said nonchalantly. “It’s gonna suck after Yankee retires. Half you guys are leaving at the same time.”
“It wasn’t my initial plan, but being only a few hours from the farm I bought, it just made sense.”
“Where’s thi
s farm again?”
“A town called Forest Lake. It’s about a half hour from the Twin Cities.”
“It’s going to be too loud for you.”
“I’m on ten acres, I’ll be fine.”
“Ten? You grew up on three thousand.”
“Yes, but I never really roamed unless forced. I like the idea of having land, but I don’t want to maintain it. This will be just the right size for me. I’ve already lined up a few horses to board.”
“Bored is more like it. Won’t you miss waking up to my face in a nameless hotel room?”
“I was thinking I might just try to find one of those female things.” JT snapped his fingers a few times as if he was trying to remember. “Oh, yeah, a wife or something.”
“Awe, you don’t want one of those,” Sunshine pshawed him. “They expect you to do things, like fix the car and only sleep with them.”
“That might be a hardship. I’ve never been good with motors.”
“You put your name up on a dating site didn’t you?”
“Not yet, I wanted to get settled first. Maybe see who’s in the area.”
“You know who’s in the area,” Sunshine said with a raised eyebrow.
JT swallowed hard, gripped the steering wheel, and stared out at the road ahead of him. There was a vehicle quite a distance from them. He tried to focus on that so he could drop the subject completely.
“They have that one site that’s just for farmers and the women who love them,” JT broke the silence.
“All women love farmers in theory. Then they close the cowboy romance book and have sex with the guy who’s not out until two in the morning birthing a colt or fixing the fence destroyed in the last storm.”
“See, what I get from that is that I’m every woman’s fantasy.”
Chapter Two
“Okay, spill,” Ron said after they’d passed through St. Cloud.
“About what?”
Betsy looked up from her tablet where she’d been searching out the current batch of riders and the history of the retiring bull, Yankee Scum. He had an impressive record, she’d give him that. Born in two-thousand-three he’d bucked off over ninety-six percent of his riders in under five seconds. That time increase only happened over the last two years—previously it’d been at around four.
“You haven’t spoken since we loaded up?”
“You’re listening to a book.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
“That’s because the only time we were stuck in the van for more than twenty minutes was during that snow storm and I was screaming for my life.”
“Betsy, you’ve been on edge since we got this assignment.”
“No I haven’t.”
“Don’t bull shit a bull shitter.”
“Speaking of bulls,” Betsy said as she held up her tablet with the picture of Yankee Scum. “I think I saw him when he was just starting out.”
“Was it the horns or his eyes that jogged your memory?”
“I remember a bull throwing cowboys like rag dolls.”
“Isn’t that their job?” Ron reached for his coffee cup.
“But there was something about the way he did it. He is an amazing bull... you don’t understand, he’s only had two riders that were able to stay on him long enough to score.”
“How many have ridden him?”
“Individual I don’t know. He’ll have his five hundredth ride this weekend. Nobody this year. He’s going to have three rides, prelims, semis and finals a different round each day. They have both guys who’ve ridden him before and a guy who almost hit eight seconds in the competition.”
“You sound giddy,” Ron chuckled. “And your accent is back.”
“Shit.”
“That’s more like it, but add a ‘you betcha, Ron’ so it’s real Minnesotan.”
“Oh, yeah, you betcha ‘dare,” That got a wink from Ron.
“I’m not going to push, Bets, but—”
“Don’t, please.”
Ron snapped his mouth shut and turned up the book on the radio.
It was stupid for her to be scared. There were multiple rodeo circuits going on around the country and this one had to be the biggest right now because it had Yankee’s last ride. What was the chance JT’s even in the circuit, let alone at this one? It’s the Fourth. There were probably a hundred local rodeos going on. Betsy went back to her research to see who the riders were. Maybe some of her favorites were still around... then again it’d been five years.
They pulled into the motel parking lot around three. After settling in, eating, and mapping out the fairgrounds Betsy and Ron threw on their lanyards with their press passes and got ready to roll.
It’d been years since she’d worn her boots, but sliding them on her feet instantly felt the cushion and comfort that could never be found in a pair of heels. She had to admit it felt good to be in jeans and a western shirt with her hair pulled back in a French braid. If she didn’t have make-up on she might as well of been stepping out of her old pick-up at her granddad’s ranch.
Opening ceremonies were being held Friday night and if there was one thing Betsy did miss, it was the parade and spectacle that accompanied the rodeo. They were allowed access right by the chutes that were currently empty, but soon would have two-dozen broncos waiting to buck off the first round of competitors.
The unmistakable smell of hay, manure, and man surrounded her the instant she stepped close. She wanted to hate Bert for sticking her on this assignment, but she had to admit she was getting excited. The same rush tingled up her spine as she thought about the animals and men who could control them.
JT had been one of the ones who truly controlled them. Sure the riders had a few seconds of control, but JT wrangled and got them back in the chutes. He’d hang out after with the handlers and owners, even workout the horses on off days. That’s why she’d loved him—he had strength with a gentle touch, and the safety of the animals tied with the safety of the riders. “These horses are providing entertainment,” he said. “They were born and bred for it, but they never chose, not like the cowboys. I could never take advantage of an animal that’s here to help us.”
Betsy’s heart stopped the second she saw JT on the far side of the chutes. She knew that body better than she should. He had just a t-shirt and jeans on right now, but she saw his red, white, and blue western shirt hanging up on a post. The white t strained against his muscular upper body as he checked over the bridle and saddle of his beautiful black and white paint horse. JT stood out among the other cowboys; his skin the color of expensive caramel had caught Betsy’s eye and made her do a double take, but his eyes were her Achilles heel—no, were, past tense, he couldn’t...
He looked up and even with over thirty-five feet and five years separating them they both froze. A buzz ran up her spine and her head seemed to no longer be attached to her body. The dizzy spell caught her by surprise as she blindly reached for the gate in front of her for support. Her fingers gripped tight, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of his full lips, cocoa colored eyes and beard that a fool would believe was a day’s growth. She knew better. It was trimmed too well and just covered his strong square jaw.
“Fuck,” she swore and turned around, only to land in the chest of Cole Gardner.
“Hey Betsy, you’re a lot shorter in cowboy boots.”
“Heels aren’t practical around manure,” she said as she righted herself and stepped back.
“It’s gonna be old home week,” Danny Tuck said he as pulled her into a giant bear hug. At six-foot, the old rodeo clown had her off the ground and was spinning her around. Hadn’t her world already spun enough today? “Everyone’s come out for Yankee’s retirement.” Danny placed her back on the ground. “When I retire I won’t even get a watch or a cake. Damn bully’s getting national press and sent off to have his junk milked daily.”
“Always the gentleman, Danny. Did you forget, Betsy’s a lady,” JT’s slow drawl came from behin
d her. Memories of how his breath tickled her when he whispered his way up her neck had her skin rising.
“I’m local, not national,” she corrected Danny and refused to look at JT even though she could feel his heat on her left hip. The magnet between her hips and his was setting off alarms all over her body.
“I thought you went off to a big market?” Danny asked.
“The Twin Cities is number fifteen,” Betsy said. “Quite a bit bigger than El Paso.”
“You were good enough for Dallas,” he replied with a wink.
“Then she’d only get to see me a few times a year,” Cole busted in and put his hand around her waist.
“Well, I better be off and get dressed,” JT said and Betsy turned her head to finally look at him.
Mistake number one... no mistake number one was not buying a cabin so she had an excuse to not be at this stupid rodeo. JT looked up at Cole, then down to her and she saw his dimples were almost gone as he gave a quick nod before leaving.
“JT’s still on the circuit huh?” Betsy asked as she turned back to Danny.
“He’d been with Rough and Rumble for a while, but he signed on with us at the beginning of the season,” Danny explained. “So, is this your fella?”
“Um, no,” Betsy placed her hand on Cole’s and removed it from her hip. “Just a fan.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be the other way around? Even I know who Cole Gardner is and not because I have to introduce him tonight.”
“My boy can’t understand his limitations,” Cole’s father, Howard Gardner, said as he came up, gave Betsy a kiss on her cheek, and placed an arm around her shoulders.
She’d interviewed Howard multiple times as Cole moved from high school phenom to All-Star. An older version of his son, Howard had prematurely gray hair and, if nothing else, he’d keep Cole in line this weekend.
“Yeah, Cole, why are you here? I didn’t see your name on the website.”
“I wanted to come. I have a cabin up here so my agent had them comp me some tickets if I walk out and wave.”
Betsy ground her teeth. Of course Cole has a cabin in the neighborhood. Weren’t they a stone’s throw away from bear country? She turned her head and saw JT watching every move she made. Maybe Cole could be of some use to her this weekend to keep JT at bay.
Red Hot and BOOM! A Sizzling Hot Collection of Stories from the Red Hot Authors Page 47