The Bull Rider Wears Pink (4 page)

“Since when do you drink root beer?”
Cassidy asked after Kevin had walked away. “And wear fringe shirts?” She pulled
on one of the strings hanging from his arm. Even after Kevin's scolding she was
still in the mood to pick on John.

“Since when are you called mom?” He
shot right back at her.

She shifted in her seat.

“I didn't know you had a son,” he
told her.

“Well, I do,” she said sharply. “Don't
worry, I won't tell Kevin you're a cop and blow your cover.” She rolled her
eyes. “I know how important the job is to you.” She said this with a boat load
of attitude, which just wasn't fair.

“That girl wasn't in danger,” John
replied feeling defensive. He figured he'd attack her before she started
accusing him of child abuse and a million other things.

“That's not true,” she countered. “By
exposing you I was able to save that child from abuse. My God, John, they were
planning on videotaping her naked.”

“They weren't going to put her in a
movie and they were—,” John retorted angrily. Even though he missed Cassidy in
every cell of his body he was still mad at her for blowing his cover, and he
got shot in the leg. Yes, he'd studied forgiveness since taking up religion but
actually practicing it was damn hard to do.

“You didn't know that,” she
interrupted shifting in her seat.

He rubbed his forehead feeling more
like the ‘take no prisoners’ cop Cassidy used to know and not the pious
preacher he was now. John leaned forward, this argument was going nowhere and
he needed to set some parameters with her. “Please don't identify me, no matter
what you see or hear at the rodeo.”

“Don't get me involved in your
business,” Cassidy countered. “I'm not here to fight the bad guys. I just want
to ride bulls.” She folded her arms and nodded her chin firmly. Then she added,
“And
build
a relationship with my son.”

John snorted, which he should not
have done. It was rude and probably a form of bullying. But he loved it when
she got firm like that and he couldn't believe he was in the middle of Oklahoma going toe to
toe with Cassidy Cooper. In his mind a wet dream come true.

“What?” Cassidy demanded pulling
her hands off the table. “That laugh isn't very charitable of you Pastor John.”

“Lying to me for two years wasn't
very charitable of you,” he shot back.

Cassidy leaned
forward,
he could see every pore on her face. She had such clear skin. “Whatever you're
doing,” she told him. “Don't involve me and don't involve my son,” she warned. “He
seems to like you but you stay away from him.”

“Fine,” John said. He stood picking
up his fliers.

Kevin came back with the root beer.
“What?” Kevin moaned. “Did she bully you again?” he asked. “I was hoping we
could discuss the meaning of the
Cylons
monotheistic
religion in
Battlestar
.” Kevin held the root beer up.
“Can robots really worship God?”

“Sorry,” John said. He glanced at
Cassidy. “I've got to go. We’ll have to discuss
Battlestar
another time.” He searched his brain for a reason. “Monty Harper needs a
prayer, he's still unconscious.” He fled the restaurant with the sound of
laughter in his wake. Jesus Christ, they were probably all still laughing at
him.

Chapter Three

“I don't think you should do this,”
Kevin said. He was standing behind the chutes with Cassidy. Tradition dictated
that the rider stay with her bull in the back pens. There were three cowgirls
ahead of her, but Cassidy’s turn was coming up quickly. “I've got a bad feeling
right here,” Kevin told her sounding a lot like Tony Soprano. Then he pointed
at his rear end.

“Ha, ha,” Cassidy said. She rolled
her eyes. “There's nothing more special than the sense of
humor
of a thirteen year old.” She looked at her watch.
“Especially
at eight in the morning.”
That idiot Bret
Bodner
had moved the start time for the women up even earlier.

“I'm serious,” Kevin objected. “You
could break your coccyx.”

“You don't even know what a coccyx
is,” Cassidy countered, “or that it's very hard to break.” She wondered if this
misplaced concern had something to do with him being embarrassed about her bull
riding. If that was it, Kevin needed to understand his mother was a bull rider.
Bull riders fell and got hurt. Current statistics indicated it was one in every
three. Cassidy just didn't want to get injured too badly when her time came. A
cracked rib would be fine or a sprained wrist she could manage.

“I do to know where it is,” Kevin
protested. He pointed again at his tiny hind end. Then he shook it.

Cassidy laughed. She was getting
ready to tell the boy he had a cute butt when John Risk interrupted, another
man with a delightful derriere. But, hadn't she told John to stay away from her
and her son? In typical John Risk fashion he completely ignored her suggestion.

“Did someone break their tail bone?”
John asked as his eyes slid to Cassidy's backside. Without waiting for an
answer he kept right on talking. “I know it hurts, maybe I can say a prayer.”
Through all his babble he continued to stare at Cassidy's
posterior
.
“There was a rider last week who landed on his butt and bounced into the wall.
I thought for sure he'd broken his coccyx, but you know the Good Lord was
looking out for that boy.” He clasped his hands together, but instead of
tipping his chin up he kept his eyes on Cassidy. “That young man pulled himself
off the ground and walked away. Bless his soul.”

Kevin tugged on Cassidy's sleeve. “Coccyx,”
he whispered. “See everyone knows what it is, even the weirdo preacher.” He
shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Then there was this bull rider who—”
John started again oblivious to Kevin and Cassidy talking about him. While John
pontificated Cassidy moved away. The man didn't need to keep looking at her
like that. It wasn't appropriate, especially around the small audience of bull
owners, riders, and groupies that was rapidly forming. Everyone liked a good wreck
story even at eight o'clock in the morning.

Still hanging tight to Cassidy,
Kevin tugged on her sleeve again while grimacing in embarrassment. After a
quick assessment of the situation Cassidy realized he wasn't upset at her. It
was John and his story. “Can I tell him to go away?” Kevin asked.

Cassidy nodded.

“Do you always talk so much?” the
boy interrupted the minister sounding a lot like Caleb when he was carrying a
grudge.

John blinked a few times. “What?”

“All this religious stuff,” Kevin
pointed out. “It's really weird behind the chutes at a rodeo attended by less
than twenty people.” He gestured toward the bulls surrounding them. “There's
more animals here than humans.” He folded his arms over his chest mimicking a
favorite
pose of Logan's.

Yes, Cassidy most definitely had
left the boy alone for too long with her brothers. She did it because John
needed her and she believed she was fighting the good fight, saving women and
children from drugs, guns, and abuse. Now, she wasn’t so sure because she was beginning
to realize her son needed her too, maybe even more.

“I'm a spiritual man,” John said
pulling at the corners of his collar with righteousness. He looked
uncomfortable, awkward, and just plain silly.

Cassidy had to look away. It was
just too painful to not laugh. She didn't know who at the Bureau of Alcohol,
Tobacco, and Firearms assigned John this job, but it wasn't a match for him. On
the other hand, she was finding his ineptitude and awkwardness attractive in a Big
Bang Theory sort of way. The righteousness she could do without.

A few minutes later a rider, named
Maggie Taylor, entered the ring on a bull called Butter Cup. She was one bull
ahead of Cassidy. It was time for Cassidy to forget about John Risk and get her
head in the game. Her bull, Crosshairs, was moved to the waiting chute.

Oh gosh, he was big. Cassidy
probably shouldn't have spoken of broken bones with Kevin because now she was
sure she’d break a few. Yes, she was superstitious and really hoped the gold
dollar she carried in her front pocket, which her father had given her when she
was seven, would protect her.

“Remember, keep the wind at your
back,” John said placing his hand on her shoulder. He had finally stopped
preaching but hadn’t left. He was so close to Cassidy she felt his breath move
the hair around her chin. Ignoring his proximity, she tried to find comfort in
the Irish blessing. She glanced at his wrist. Like her gold coin, his talisman
was a leather band his father had given him when he was five. It reassured her
too.

“Keep the sun on your face,”
Cassidy replied holding onto the fence. They'd said those same words to each
other many times in the past before going into dangerous situations. Without
warning their eyes collided. His flared while she tried to stop hers from doing
the same. But who could control their eyes?

“And the rains fall soft upon your
fields,” he continued. And together they finished the blessing, “Until we meet
again may God hold you in the palm of his hand.”

Quoting that particular poem
unnerved Cassidy. Passion and fear were pulsating through her veins. She turned
away from John quickly. If she couldn’t control fear she’d try to get a handle
on passion. She put her boot on the gate to climb up the rail.

But John stopped her.

“I've got to—” she started. She tipped
her head toward the bull.

John took her helmet out of her
hands.

“I need that—” she started again.

With his eyes still flaming in a
way that made her extremely uncomfortable he put it on her head. Then he pushed
her hair out of the way. He tightened the strap and buckled the chin piece. “Be
safe,” he whispered. He did not release her of his gaze. She'd always loved the
way his dark lashes lined the oval shape. Similar to eye liner but she knew
John didn't wear any.

As she began to lose herself in the
depths of John Risk something else grabbed her attention. Thankfully the damn
chin strap was choking her. “It's too tight,” she gasped. She lifted her head
and coughed. Then, she coughed again. Yes, she was overreacting but she needed
something to get her mind off this man.

John tried to help.

She swatted at his hands. Now that
she had come to her senses she knew all that eye gazing was probably bad luck
too. Along with the coccyx conversation, Cassidy decided she was cursed. She
pulled off her gloves and reached in her pocket. Rubbing the gold piece
restored some semblance of calm for her.

Then Crosshair kicked at the chute
and the few people in the stands were yelling for the next rider. Maggie had
been bucked off after seven seconds. So close, a real bummer.

“She's
gonna
need a prayer preacher man,” Herbert Price told John looking like he hadn't
gone to bed last night with bristle on his chin and the two teeth in his mouth
covered in yellow stuff. “Only one lady has stayed on the beast this morning
and she scored sixty-seven.” He spit in the hay. “We need divine intervention
to make this rodeo right.”

Cassidy turned to Herbert. She had
to say something to remind everyone skill had a lot to do with it too. “I
remember someone telling me once that success has nothing to do with the hand
of God, it's all hard work.” She eyed John. At the time John had been grilling
her about their undercover back story, even spending a couple of hours figuring
out their nonexistent wedding day. Yes, they planned the cake, band, and their
first dance for an event that never happened. “I'm prepared because I've
trained,” she told Herbert pushing the thought of never slow dancing to Jon Bon
Jovi's
Make a Memory
with John Risk out of her mind. It could have been
a lovely day.

“I think a prayer is a good idea,”
John agreed not even acknowledging Cassidy's words. He reached for Herbert and
Kevin's hands, most of the other's had dispersed once they realized the wreck
story was over. “Kevin,” he directed, “hold my hand.”

Cassidy's son jumped. “What the
frack
?” he asked. He told Cassidy earlier it was a
Battlestar
Galactic curse. He walked around to the other
side of the chute. “I don't hold hands with guys.”

Cassidy shook her head when John
reached for her. “It's okay,” she told him, “I don't need a prayer.” And, if
she was being honest with herself, she also knew deep inside she wasn’t worthy.
It had a lot to do with the guilt she felt about leaving Kevin with her
brothers. Plus, John was so far from having any connection with “a power above”
Cassidy was scared his words could have the opposite effect. She'd end up in
the hospital.

Whispering out of the side of her
mouth, she confronted the rodeo preacher. “Didn’t my son just tell you to go
away?”

He smiled. It was that new smile of
John's. Warm and welcoming, even disarming
which made her
want to forget about getting rid of him.
Cassidy found herself anxiously
smiling back and if Kevin got wind of her reaction it would be embarrassing.
But maybe her nerves were not because of this shiny, new John Risk, they were a
result of her having to get on a bull in the next two minutes. Cassidy had
practiced a
lot,
however, this was her first time in a
real ring, with a real bull, and real people watching.

The announcer shouted Cassidy's
name then added a plug for Caleb and Logan, trying anything to get the
minuscule crowd excited. Among the cheers there were a few boos. Someone had
the nerve to yell, “Bull riding is for men.”

Cassidy wanted to yell back, then
don't come to the women's competition, but she didn't instead she climbed up
the chute. She'd prove she was just as good as the men. As she threw her leg
over to the other gate and hovered above the bull she glanced at Kevin. He
didn't look happy with her and maybe that joke about breaking her coccyx was
serious. She really wished she could be the kind of mom that stayed home, baked
cookies, and did nothing embarrassing. But she wasn't. The adrenaline that was
pumping through her veins at that moment was something she couldn't ignore.

She eased herself down onto the
bull. Then she wrapped her right hand around her pink rope. John climbed up the
rail and helped her pull it tighter. The animal shifted its weight. The smell
of rosin and livestock invaded Cassidy’s senses as she took a deep breath. She glanced
at Kevin again. The left corner of his mouth lifted slightly. That was all
Cassidy needed, she nodded at her son as she lifted her left arm and gave the
gate man her signal.

“Good luck,” John said as the bull
charged out of the gate. Immediately Crosshairs swung his head to the right.
Cassidy shifted her weight left and was able to keep her
center
of balance. With her left arm flapping in the air, she rode the next wave and
the one after that. The twenty-five or so people that made up the crowd actually
got to their feet.

Then the buzzer sounded. Cassidy
had won the battle. She stayed on the entire eight seconds. While thinking of
Kevin and coccyx’s she let go of her bull rope. One more buck and she landed
gracefully in the dirt on her knees and not her backside. The kid should be
happy, nothing in her performance was mortifying or even close to embarrassing.
She pulled herself to her feet, dusted the dirt off her pink chaps, and waved
to the crowd.

Then, because she realized she
could actually do this and do it well, she ripped her helmet off and threw it
in the air. Except she couldn't celebrate for long, Crosshairs was mad and he
was looking for her. Maybe he'd never been bested by a girl. She ran over to
the fence and climbed up the rail just as he was getting ready to charge.
Finally with ribbons of snot hanging from his nose the bull left the ring.

Cassidy jumped down. She took a bow
to a chorus of boos and cheers. Ignoring
the boos
she
took another bow. God, she felt good. She hadn't felt this good in a long time.
The announcer was yelling something about woman versus beast and Cassidy pumped
her fist in the air.

After she left the ring, but with
the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she looked for Kevin. She was
hoping he'd run over and give her a hug but he didn't. He shuffled over with
his hands in his pockets and eyes wide. His mouth was even shaped into a little
circle.