Now the screen showed a live feed of Nate and the commentator. “Tell us now, Nate, how are you planning on coming at this world class bull?”
“Well, Shane, I’ll be coming at him with all I’ve got, a little lady luck and a whole lot of tenacity,” Nate said as the camera took a close up.
Hot damn, he was gorgeous! Like my brothers, Nate could have been an actor or model too. His green eyes looked positively on fire.
“A choice riders have been faced with lately is the decision between wearing the cowboy hat or helmet during their rides. What’s your take on it?”
The camera man took a step back to get an almost full body shot of Nate, who was wearing black jeans and black leather chaps with fringes down both sides, along with a black, long sleeved top and vest. The vest was covered with the names and logos of his sponsors, which included Bass Pro Shop, Jack Daniels, DeWalt, Monster, Stanley and Ram.
“I think mothers everywhere will appreciate that the approach to rider safety in the sport of bull riding has changed a lot in the past few years. The vest I’m wearing is a durable invention of neoprene sports foam and a ballistic material called Spectra that can help keep a rider safe if the bull isn’t quite finished with him. And yes, Shane, I believe in wearing the helmet.” Nate was at the moment wearing the same black cowboy hat I’d taken from him and put on my own head at the club the other night, but he held up a black sports helmet with a face guard for the camera. “I get a serious rush riding bulls, but I don’t need a serious injury to stop my career. I always wear a helmet.”
“Thanks so much, Nate, and good luck on your ride.”
“Thank you too, Shane.” Nate nodded and went off into the chute.
The commentator continued to discuss Smackdown’s riding prowess and how, at 1,800 pounds, he was one hell of a bull. It only made me more nervous as it pumped up the crowd. Helmet or no, this sport was dangerous.
Spiderbait’s “Black Betty” boomed over the speakers and I felt a shot of adrenaline course through me as I knew Nate was about to start his ride.
Again the crowd hit an insane fever pitch of wild screams, whistles and clapping. The noise was deafening. I held my breath and, like a shot, Nate and Smackdown were out of the gate!
Smackdown was savage! The bull bucked, spun, leaped into the air and threw his body with only one objective, getting Nate the hell off!
The seconds counted up, and Nate was still riding!
7.05.
7.56.
8.00
I screamed and threw my arms up in the air! He’d done it! He’d bested Smackdown! And he’d done it in perfect form!
The crowd became unhinged as Nate leaped from the bull’s back after the eight seconds, rolled through the dirt and got onto his feet with his arms held out over his head and his fists in the air! He knew it was a perfect ride and so did the crowd as they jumped to their feet, cheering for him. As Smackdown was corralled into his pen, Nate unstrapped his helmet and held it high as he smiled and turned for the fans.
He whooped right back at them, and an arena usher gave him a high five.
The announcer was saying Nate had earned 91½ points as the other arena ushers came over to congratulate him; one patted him on the back and passed him his looped rope, which Nate shouldered as he turned to the other usher, who gripped his fist for a fisted elbow shake. Then Nate turned to the camera and whooped with a thumbs up.
I scooted past Sam and his date and ran toward the waiting station where Nate would be headed. As soon as the cameras turned their lenses toward the next rider I threw myself into his arms.
“You were amazing!”
He was laughing. “That bull was insane! I thought for sure he was going to kick me to the dust.” With that he gave me a kiss. “I’m thanking you, lady luck,” he said before pulling me into an embrace.
We both heard AC/DC’s “Dynamite” start up. “That’s Bobby Ray. He’s the last rider,” Nate said, and the two of us went over to the fences to watch the ride.
The announcer was saying, “Release the Beast!” and in a cloud of dust and dirt, Bobby Ray, the guy who Nate and Caleb had talked about whipping his ass all the way back to Texas, went down hard in 3.41 seconds.
“NATE! YOU WON!” I shouted.
Nate lifted me into the air and spun me around as he howled excitedly.
The announcer called, “This years Canadian Pro Rodeo Champion is Nathaniel Morrisey!”
When he set me to my feet, he took my face in his hands, got real close and said, “That means a $50,000.00 purse!”
“YEAH!” I cheered. “Now hurry up, cowboy, and get out there!” I smiled proudly and shoved him toward the gate.
Nate was ecstatic as he jogged into the center of the arena and took the steps onto the podium to accept his prize and give interviews.
Chapter 11
“Cowboy Take Me Away”
Dixie Chicks
“Boy, dinner is on you toooo-night!” Caleb was crowing.
“Sorry, man, I’ll have to give you a rain check. It’s all Jules tonight,” Nate explained as we walked back to the trucks, his arm around my shoulders.
“She definitely proved lucky.” Caleb jabbed me with his elbow.
“Yeah, she did,” Nate agreed.
“Good,” Piper interrupted them. “It’ll be nice to have a night to ourselves too.”
Sam had already gone missing with Mary Nicole, and Charlie, Travis and Ryan had taken off to go girl hunting with Griffin in tow.
“Alright then, you two have a good night,” Caleb said as we stopped at Nate’s truck. “And, dude, congrats again, you killed that ride!”
I gave Piper a hug before she and Caleb took off.
Once they were out of sight, Nate grabbed me and pinned me up against the truck. I laughed at the heady sensation it caused.
“Just me and you, sweetness,” he verified as he leaned in beside me. “Have any ideas what you’d like to do?”
“You pick, you’re the winner.” I smiled.
He swept his fingers over my cheek. “Yes I am.”
I knew he meant me, and I blushed.
“Dinner and dancing?” He studied me.
“If that’s what you want.”
“No, we’ve already done that.” Nate considered. “I have an idea. How about we take the long way home and get lost for the next few days?”
“What do you mean?” I felt a smile spreading over my face.
“I mean I’ll call Caleb and tell him you and I are going for a little road trip alone. We’ll slip back to the hotel, grab our stuff and check out, and then we’ll pick up a Hawaiian style pizza and a case of Molson and go camping.”
“Camping? Alone? With you?” The thought made me tremble with excitement.
“We could head west and hole up tonight at Chickakoo Lake. It’s only a half hour from here. In the morning we’ll go through Jasper and Banff National Parks; I know you love it there, and it’s only an extra four hours added to our time home.”
I nodded, my lip caught in my bottom teeth.
“Yeah, I thought you’d like that.” He gazed into my eyes. “I know almost everything there is to know about you, Julia North. Now I want to unearth what lies deepest in your heart.” He pressed his right hand against my chest.
I was speechless.
“Are you ready for that?” he asked me, closing his eyes and breathing over my lips.
I couldn’t think to speak. Instead I kissed his top lip, then his bottom lip before I fitted my mouth over his, and he reciprocated with a soft, tender kiss that promised there was more to come.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He smiled.
By the time we pulled into the campsite, the sun was a low glowing ball of fire, casting a sizzling ray of reflective light over the lake as it set. Nate opened the truck’s storage container, and together we assembled the truck tent. I put the pizza and large tossed salad on the picnic table and pulled out the small Styrofoam cooler out, dumping in the ic
e and setting in the bottles, while Nate blew up the air mattress and started a fire.
I popped two tops and handed him a bottle as he jumped out of the truck after turning up the music so we could hear it. Luke Bryan’s “Drunk On You” breezed through the speakers.
Nate grabbed his beer along with my hand and pulled me into him tight. “It’s just you and me out here, baby. Are you happy?”
“More than words.”
“Good, ’cause that’s all part of my plan.” He held me in his arms and rocked me until the song was over.
“You ready to eat? I’m starving,” he admitted.
“Yeah.”
After we ate we lay together on a blanket in front of the fire. He put his jacket under his head and held me as I lay back with my head against his chest so we could watch the stars.
“Can you find Polaris?” Nate challenged.
“The North Star? Of course.” I lifted my arm and pointed into the sky. “Find the Big Dipper, part of the Great Bear, and then line up the two stars that make up the bowl—they point to Polaris, which is part of the Little Dipper, or the Little Bear. It’ll always lead you North, wherever you are.”
“Have you ever heard the Navajo legend of the Dippers?”
“No,” I answered, curious.
“They called Polaris the Fire Star. In their tradition the Big Dipper is a man and the Little Dipper a woman, and the two of them are the parents to all the stars. They rotate around the sky, always together with the warmth of the Fire Star that stays fixed and represents the hearth and home.”
“I’ve never heard that before. It’s beautiful.”
“Did you know that the North Star is more reliable than a compass?”
“What? No way.”
“Magnetic north is unreliable. There’s iron in the earth’s core that messes with the compass’ suspended magnetic needle so it can’t bring you true north,” Nate explained. “Polaris, though, can guide a lost soul home … you, Julia, are my North Star.”
I rolled over and propped myself onto my elbows so I could see him. His hand touched my face and he brushed my hair back.
“I know I’m going to make a lot of mistakes, Jules … and knowing me, there’s going to be some bad ones. So I’m asking for forgiveness in advance, and I swear if I get lost, I’ll follow your lead, because I know your love will direct me home.”
I came up and lay over him. “I love you.”
“You know you can say that as often as you want, I’ll never tire of hearing it.” He put his arms around me and squeezed.
“Now, pretty girl, trade a secret with me,” Nate coaxed.
“A secret?”
“You tell me one and I’ll tell you one.”
“That’s kinda hard, just throwing something out there.”
“Okay, why don’t you ask me a question first?” he suggested.
I let my eyes skip over the pinpoints of light that were little worlds of their own, apart from mine, and wondered how deep I should go.
“When did you realize you felt this way about me?”
His belly moved with a soft chuckle. “Too long ago. I was too old, and you were definite hands-off, jailbait.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Your seventeenth birthday is when I had my first real jolt that you were turning into a woman and would begin dating, and men would be falling all over you. Then there was one night when I showed up at your house after …”—his voice trailed off for a moment, and he skipped over the unpleasant part of the memory, knowing that I would know exactly what he was talking about—“and you put ice on my eye. I remember that, even after everything that had happened earlier, it was the sweetest night of my life. But I, Miss North, was an older man. So I did what I could to put you out of my mind. I had it quite made, however, as your brothers seemed to scare off any potential dating prospects you might have had.”
We both laughed at that.
“Yeah, they know how to be buzzkills when they want to be.” I nodded then waited a minute. “But that can’t be the end.”
“You’re just going to pull it out of me, aren’t you?”
“This game was your idea,” I reminded. “Do you want to quit?”
“Before I get a turn with you? Not a chance,” he huffed. “Eighteen. It was like subconsciously I was just waiting for that day.”
I nodded. “I hadn’t made the connection with my birthday, but that’s when things changed between us for a while. I started to think maybe I had a chance with you. But why didn’t you tell me then?” I had to ask.
“Hey, that’s two!”
“Just answer the question,” I playfully demanded.
“Because you’re perfect,” he began seriously. “Because I thought for sure your dad and brothers would kill me.” Nate took a deep breath. “Because I’ve never believed I was good enough for you, or that I could love you the way you deserved to be loved. But I’ve come to understand that no one could meet that expectation, you’re just that amazing, and I’m going to do my damnedest to prove to you and to myself that I can be that man.” He let loose a nervous laugh. “You scared the living soul from my body when you were talking about leaving … losing you—even though I never even had you—smacked me square between the eyes. I almost lost my shit that night. Came close to pummeling poor Ryan just for being the bearer of the news.”
His answer made me want to laugh and glow at the same time that it made my heart hurt. He didn’t feel like he was good enough and he was still struggling with that? I wanted to address it, but I didn’t know what to say.
“My turn,” he insisted.
“Oh shit,” seeped through my lips.
“Don’t freak, I’ll go easy at first.”
At first!?!
“Was it the truth? That you were going to leave? Or did you make it up to wake my ass up? And what about the dress? And speaking of which—”
“Wait a minute, that’s like a five part question!” I protested.
“Good. Start on part one.”
“Yes and no. The night we played pool was my last straw. That girl touching you, and you smiling at her like she was some sort of angel. It made my blood boil in a way I’d never felt before.”
“I’m sorry, Julia.” I could hear the pain in his voice.
“It wasn’t a bad thing in hindsight; in fact, I think it was the catalyst that moved me out of the comfort zone I’d somehow gotten glued into,” I answered honestly. “That night I decided to fly out on Monday to Seattle, even bought my ticket. Next morning Piper called Livie and the two of them talked me into telling you. That way at least, whatever happened, I’d have my answer.”
“All of this time, my staying away from you was an attempt to protect you from me, and in the process I hurt you anyway. I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you,” I promised.
“So then the dress was a prop?”
I laughed and so did he. “Yeah, it was a prop!”
“It worked. Good God woman, you know how to bring a boy to his knees! The sheer number of men I killed with my mind for looking at you the way I was!” He chuckled. “Speaking of dresses … the time we went out to Wild’s after Jake got home? That pink little number?”
“Yeah, I was trying to get your attention way back then,” I admitted.
“I’m an idiot.”
“Yeah you were.” I searched for the right words. “But I don’t ever want to hear you say you’re struggling to think you deserve me, or that you’re not worthy of me.” I rolled over onto my elbows to watch his expression. He was so handsome with the moonlight in his eyes and on his face. “You are the most honest, respectful and honorable man I’ve ever known, next to my dad and brothers, and you are more than worthy of any woman … especially me.”
Nate turned onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow while he tucked a finger beneath my chin to pull me to him. “I’m counting on you, Jules, to be the boss.”
“The boss?”
&nbs
p; “You tell me when I’m wrong or an idiot or an asshole—’cause I’m sure I’m going to be all of those things. You let me know when I’m doing things right and I’ll repeat it as often as possible. ’Cause baby, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I’ve never opened up to anyone before and I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.” He swallowed hard, and I found it was hard to breathe as the tears gathered in his eyes and spilled out over his dark lashes. “I want to be the only one for you, Julia North.”
“The only one?” I repeated.
“The forever one.”
I nodded. “Okay, you’re hired.”
He laughed at that and wiped his eyes with his forearm. “You ready for another?” He indicated his empty beer bottle.
“Sounds good.” I sat up, and Nate went and got us a couple of bottles from the cooler and sat back down next to me.
“You know I started the first book by Natalia Morris, Not Close Enough.”
I felt like he’d just jabbed me with a cattle prod! “You did what?”
“You said she was your favorite author, so I wanted to check her out.”
“Oh?” Oh fuck! “When did you do that?”
“I picked it up in Saskatoon before we left. Don’t look so shocked, I’ve read my share of sexy romance.”
“In Playboy,” I teased.
He laughed. “Hey! Shel Silverstein wrote for Playboy.”
“No way, you’re totally wrong!”
“No I’m not. Look it up.”
I grabbed my phone. “No service. Are you really trying to tell me that the same man who wrote The Giving Tree and Where the Sidewalk Ends wrote stories for Playboy?”
“Want to make it a bet?” It was a challenge.
“What would we bet?” I was almost starting to believe him.
“If I’m right, you have to stay two entire weeks at my house.”
“You mean apartment.”
“Same thing. Is it a bet?”
“It’s a bet.”
We shook on it.
“My dad might kill you though,” I said. “When I’m right, what’s my prize?”
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