Page 5 of Summer Storm
Aaron
“Stay put.” I order as Brielle reached for the handle of the passenger side door. I hoist my big ass out from behind the wheel and hurry around the front of the truck and pull open her door.
“I could have gotten it.” She huffs as she turns her body to face me.
“I know you can,” I nod, “but allow me. It’s my pleasure to see to your well-being while you’re under my protection.” I place my hands on her sides just above her hips and lift her down, steadying her as her feet touch the ground. I know she’s perfectly capable of opening her own doors and taking care of herself. It’s obvious she’s been doing it on her own for a while, but dammit, this is a date. How did the men she dated in the past show that they cared? And what about her family?
“Well…thank you.” Her cheeks color prettily as she flashes an off-center smile. I don’t recall this shy, blushing neophyte from our night together; I remember the siren. Whoever she is, it’ll be fun getting to know her. I snag a blanket from behind the seat as her brothers amble up beside us. They weren’t kidding about tagging along.
I hide a grin as Brielle rolls her eyes and gives the long flowery skirt she’s wearing a sassy swish. She looks good, all sunshine and wildflowers. She’s a beauty and I’m the lucky bastard escorting her. Time to get this show on the road. Taking her hand, I tuck it into my elbow and head toward the pre-rodeo festivities.
Each rodeo has its own vibe. This one has the traditional feel of a county fair paired with the unique touristy flavor of Wintervale’s street market making the hours leading to the rodeo itself, lively and fun.
The delicious aromas of the brisket cook-off grab our attention first. We sample each of the five competitors fare and listen to the live band before casting our votes for crowd favorite. We wander through the vendor tents, taking in everything from belt buckles and straw cowboy hats– air-brushed and personalized on the spot– to things to eat like Montana honey and barbeque sauces, fudges and candies.
The afternoon moves quickly and is filled with a lot of laughter, teasing and fun and getting to know Brielle and her brothers.
When it’s time for the main event to begin, I insist on buying tickets for all of us.As we pass through the gate a piercing whistly splits the air. Searching the bleachers to our left, I see Ezra and Jorie waving wildly to us. Well, Jorie and her sister Jolie are waving, Ezra’s being his normal stoic self.
Keeping a hand on Brielle, I guide her up the steps and introduce her and her brothers to our fifth mechanic, Toby, and his girl Neely before unfolding the blanket I’ve been carrying around for my girl to sit on.
The girls chatter and giggle, oohing and aahing and also cheering loudly for the little dudes riding sheep. Brielle is practically vibrating as she avidly watches the black and white dogs do their thing in the herding competition.
“Ah, no, don’t even think about it.” Nolan groans from behind me.
“What’s up?” I turn giving him a confused look.
“I can see it now, I’ll come home in a few weeks to a litter of Border Collies and a gaggle of ducks or something.”
“What a great idea!” Brielle teases. At least I think she’s teasing.
Everyone loves the barrel racing, but the girls feel bad for the calves being thrown on their sides in the calf roping competition.
Before long we’re on to the wildest part of the show, bull riding. Our friend Manny is one of the first to compete. He makes a decent ride on a bull called Mr. January but the points he scores are quickly surpassed by other riders.
Another bull by the name of Trigger Warning twists mid-buck doing his level best to dislodge the cowboy sticking to his back like a burr. One arm whips in the air above the cowboy’s head as he fists the rope in the other and hangs on, spurring for all he’s worth. The eight-second timer buzzes. The roar of approval from the crowd morphs into horror-filled gasps as the bull rider’s hand tangles in the rope during his dismount. The rider’s feet hit the earth, but the hand doesn’t come loose.
Hanging from one arm the cowboy’s body flops alongside every leap of the enraged bull, his helmeted head smacking into the bull’s unforgiving mass. The crowd seems to hold its breath as the bull throws itself into the air, all four feet coming off the arena floor in a thrashing burst of anger-laden rampage.
The spectators gasp as Trigger Warning crashes to the ground on his side, the rider crumpling like folded origami beneath him.The bull leaps back to its feet; the unconscious rider dangling lifelessly from his side, as he continues to buck and twist.
Safety staff rush forward as Trigger Warning continues trampling the rider’s lower body beneath the thunder of deadly hooves. A pair of cowboys on pick-up horses gallop into the fray. One throws a lasso, catching the bull’s horns, while the other comes alongside and tries to yank lose the knotted rope that will release the dangling cowboy.
The bull swings its massive head forcing the second Quarter Horse to dart out of the way. The abrupt movement knocks the tangled man lose and he falls lifelessly to the ground.
Dirt flies as the massive bull turns and charges. It hooks its horns under the unconscious cowboy’s armored vest, lifting the broken man like he was nothing more than a bag of cotton candy. The bull tosses the human ragdoll further out into the arena. As the rider hits the packed dirt, the rank bull bellows and charges, doing its best to stomp the offensive cowboy into a bloody pulp.
Rodeo clowns swarm over the nearby barrier between safety and hell taking place a few feet away. In a choreographed effort they work together, darting forward in front of the bull waving their hats in the bull’s face. The distraction works. The bull spins, leaving the downed man, and launches himself after one of the clowns. The other clowns scatter, sliding in behind the bull, putting themselves between Trigger Warning and the fallen cowboy.
The clown holding the bull’s raging attention, races for a brightly painted barrel in the center of the arena. Just as it looks like the bull will claim another victim, the clown vaults to the top of the barrel and drops down inside of it. Barrel and clown roll ass over tea kettle as the bull slams into it, sending it reeling.
Cowboys leap down from the six-foot barrier that separates the spectators from danger and into the arena, adding their bodies as another line of defense between bull and man.As the mounted cowboys use their ropes and horses to herd the bull to the holding pens at the far end, medical personnel swarm Trigger Warning’s latest victim.
“Oh, my God, do you think he’s alive?” Brielle clings to my hand, her pretty face partially hidden against my bicep. I wrap my arm around her pulling her against my chest and press my lips to her forehead. She melts against me. Her arms snake around me, clinging as we wait to see the outcome.
Out in the arena, one of the cowboys darts away from the group gathered around the injured cowboy. He opens a gate, allowing an ambulance to back up into the arena. Many hands work together to lift the man into the ambulance. The doors slam and the lights and sirens sound as Trigger Warning’s latest victim is taken to the hospital.
Chapter 6
