Page 14 of Jack of All Trades
"It's... not what I expected. It's more athletic than I thought it would be. More technical."
Jack nods. "Most people think it's just hanging on for dear life. And sometimes it is," he admits with a laugh. "But there's a lot of skill involved too. Reading the animal, anticipating its movements, keeping your center of gravity in the right place."
"Is that why they call you 'Steady Hand'?" I ask, remembering the announcer's introduction.
Jack's cheeks color slightly. "Yeah. I've got a reputation for staying centered even on the toughest bulls. It's all about finding your balance point and maintaining it, no matter what."
There's a metaphor in there somewhere, but I'm not going to be the one to point it out.
"How long have you been doing this?" I ask instead.
"Started competing in junior rodeo when I was twelve," he says. "Been riding professionally since I was eighteen."
"And how many injuries?"
He grins. "Counting or not counting the bruises?"
"Serious injuries," I clarify, surprised by how much I care about the answer.
"Let's see." He counts on his fingers. "Broken wrist when I was nineteen. Three cracked ribs at twenty-two. Dislocated shoulder last year. And a concussion that put me out for a month about four years back."
Each injury he lists makes my stomach tighten. "That sounds... painful."
"Part of the job," he says with a shrug. "Every profession has its risks."
"Most professions don't involve being thrown from a raging bull."
Jack laughs. "Fair point. But I love what I do, Maya. The risks are worth it to me."
I look at him across the table, trying to understand. "Why? What's so amazing about it that makes risking your neck worthwhile?"
He's quiet for a moment.
"It's hard to explain to someone who hasn't felt it. But there's this moment, right when the chute opens and that bull makes its first move, where everything else just... disappears. All the noise, all the worries, all the expectations. It's just you and this force of nature, and either you find your balance or you don't."
His eyes have taken on a distant look, like he's seeing something I can't.
"For those eight seconds, I know exactly who I am and what I'm supposed to be doing. There's a clarity to it that I don't find anywhere else."
His words resonate with me more than I'd like to admit. That search for clarity, for a place where you know exactly who you are. Isn't that what I've been looking for? Isn't that partly why I'm considering moving to Pine Haven?
"I can understand that," I say softly. "Not the bull part, but... the clarity part."
Jack's gaze returns to me, warm and surprisingly gentle. "Yeah?"
I nod, then quickly change the subject, not ready to share more. "So, about Rex's party. I ordered the cake today. Chocolate with buttercream frosting. And I've got most of the food planned."
Jack allows the pivot in conversation, though his eyes tell me he noticed it. "Sounds perfect. I talked to Maggie about borrowing chairs, and she's happy to help. She's bringing them over Friday morning before the party."
"Good." I take another bite of funnel cake, the sweetness exploding on my tongue. "This is really good."
"Best in the county," Jack agrees. "Though don't tell Mrs. Larson I said that. She thinks her funnel cakes are unbeatable. She’s been our neighbor since before I was born. Makes the best apple pie you've ever tasted, but her funnel cakes are like eating sweetened cardboard."
I laugh at his description. "I'll remember to politely decline if she ever offers."
"Wise choice." He grins, then glances over my shoulder and nods a greeting to someone. "Word of warning. Pine Haven's rumor mill is about to kick into high gear."
"What do you mean?"
