Page 63 of Rough Stock
Shyanna chuckled. “They won’t. And there’s a reason why. You know the old saying?what happens at the rodeo stays at the rodeo.”
Sunday’s events went well.Jensen brought his points up to put him in second place overall, a thing that surprised him. Shyanna hadn’t done very well, at least not as well as she’d hoped, but Jensen insisted that she’d done great for a first time riding rough stock in the association. The big surprise? By the second night, her fan base had grown, and the stands were full of women cheering and screaming for her.
They pulled out early the next morning to head for SouthCarolina. Under normal circumstances, Jensen would’ve just dilly-dallied around between Texarkana and the next town, Houma, Louisiana. The USPCA and the Cajun Cowboy Association were doing a rodeo together, and he’d been looking forward to it for months. But first, he had to bury his friend.
Being that emotional wasn’t something he’d anticipated, but Jensen was devastated by the time they buried Cobra. The horse’s body had been in cold storage for over a week, and he hadn’t thought about how stiff it would be. Watching it lowered into the hole his dad had dug on the farm very nearly took him down, but with Shyanna and his family there, it was a little easier.
They hung around until Thursday, then took off south down I-85. It was a good ten hours without stops, so their plan was to stop for the night and start out again the next morning. All evening during dinner and later in their hotel room, Shyanna chattered away about the two horses Stag had offered Jensen. He’d told Leo about them, and about how he was planning to ask Shyanna if she wanted one of them. “You do realize that, in therodeo world, that’s the engagement ring of gestures,” Leo said, grinning.
“And your point would be?” Jensen quipped back, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.
But there was no denying it. The more time he spent with Shyanna, the more time he wanted to spend with her. He never got tired of her?never. She was everything he could’ve ever wanted in a mate, a rodeo partner, and a lover. He was looking forward to the end of the current season because he hoped they could spend a lot more time together. He’d even toyed with the idea of selling both their rigs and buying a bigger, nicer one to take all four horses in and give them more living space too. That was something they’d have to talk about.
Friday night’s competitions were great?they came in second in team roping, Shyanna came in third in tie-down roping, and Jensen came in first in steer wrestling. The rough stock events were tougher, and they found the CCA competitors to be a wild bunch, but they held their own. Shyanna made her eight seconds on a bull named Shorty who was anything but short, and Jensen took a first place slot in bareback bronc and second in saddle bronc, and came in fourth in the bull riding competition.
To their shock, Amber and SammyJo showed up again, and even more shocking was the fact that Amber got out of Amos’s truck. SammyJo came rolling up by herself, but an hour later, they saw her with the redhead, who turned out to be a barrel racer.
The Saturday events were slated to start at noon. After all their work was done on Saturday morning, they set out to look around Houma, eat a Cajun-style breakfast, and relax. By noon, they were back at the event grounds. They were shocked at how pleasant the weather was. For late summer, they’d expected it to be ridiculously hot, but the heat had taken a break for theweekend, and they were both more than thankful, seeing as how the rodeo was being held outdoors.
Of course, the mosquitos didn’t get the weekend off, much to Shyanna’s dismay.
Brian and Calvin had gone to a different association’s rodeo that weekend, but Stag was there. So was Tilford and, unfortunately, Max.
It was a big day. The two associations had never held a joint rodeo before, and everyone wanted to do a good job in hopes that it would be an annual thing. Shyanna kept hoping she’d at least get a decent score in bull riding. Jensen hoped she did too. He didn’t want her to get discouraged before she really got started.
The first event that afternoon was tie-down roping, and they’d just go on from there. The air was almost crackling with excitement, which meant it was going to be a great event. But for some reason, Jensen had this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he thought it was the food he’d eaten earlier. Even so, it was almost like there was some kind of front moving through, some kind of darkness falling on the city, although there was still plenty of daylight left.
He just hoped he was wrong.
“Where are you?”
“I’m third. Where are you?”
“I’m ninth,” Jensen answered as they talked about the bull riding event.
“How do you always manage to be after me?” she asked, laughing. He just shrugged.
It was obvious word had gotten around that she was there?the stands were filled with women, and a bunch of them had on tee shirts Jensen had never seen before. Some were bright pink, some purple, and some turquoise, but they all carried the same message. On the front, in script that looked like rope, they read, “Cut the bull and cowgirl up!” And the back was even more surprising.
In typical football jersey fashion, “OWENS” was printed in bold letter. Below it, like jersey numbers, was “01,” and below that, the year.
They stepped out into the warm-up area and there was a collective scream of female voices. “What the fuck?” Shyanna mumbled.
“Your fans, babe. A bunch of them are here,” Jensen answered, trying to keep a straight face. He’d noticed them before the bareback event, and they’d been verbal then, but they were really getting cranked up at the sight of the bulls moving into the chutes.
“Fans? I don’t have fans,” she muttered.
He couldn’t help it?the grin just popped out on his face. “Well, maybe you didn’t before, but you do now,” he said and pointed. Two women stood in the front of the stands on the far side, facing them, but another behind them turned to climb up and the back of her shirt was easily visible.
“Oh. My. God. Where the hell did they get those shirts?” Shyanna asked, her voice a coarse whisper.
“I’m guessing somebody had one made, and then somebody else wanted one, and before anyone knew it, they were everywhere.” Jensen helped her with her vest and neck roll as he spoke. “I bet if you look on the internet, there’s a page dedicated to you somewhere. Maybe even on social media. Hey, you need to do that?set up some social media accounts and connect with your fans.”
“If I don’t start doing better, I’m not going tohaveany fans ever,” she grumbled as she tied the latigo around the ankles of her boots, then set her spurs.
Jensen huffed a little before he said, “Shy, they don’t care if you’re winning or not. They’re just impressed with you, with what you’re trying to do. They’re here to cheer you on whether you’re winning or not.” He set her helmet on her head and handed her the mouth guard. “’Bout ready?”
She nodded and turned toward the chutes. The first rider was in the chute and the second was getting situated. Jensen watched as they brought the third bull into the chute and the chute boss yelled, “Wyatt!” As he stared, a cowboy he didn’t know walked up to the third chute.
