Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
“Hold it steady,” Slater McCall yelled as he struggled to maintain his balance while standing in the bed of the pickup.
It was no easy feat, since the truck was barreling down Main Street in pursuit of a runaway horse.
“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Jackson Hayes called from behind the wheel. “But if you go and get yourself hurt again, I’m going to pull your pants down and spank your bottom myself!”
The words barely reached Slater over the sound of tires rolling atop the asphalt and the wild snickering that came from the horse, not to mention the rushing wind. But he still heard, making him laugh and reply, “You’re not my Daddy.”
“You just try me,” Jackson said.
Even under the grave circumstances, Slater couldn’t help but laugh a little. Jackson was probably right—he would bust his butt if anything happened to him. The two men were close, and Slater understood that the thought of him doing something dangerous and getting himself hurt was enough to drive Jackson crazy. Especially after the big injury . That was in the past though, and he was all healed up now. Practically as good as new.
He’d still be careful, though. Neither of them wanted to live through anything like that again.
The truck gained some ground and pulled up beside the horse.
“Are you sure about this?” Jackson yelled.
“Nothing I haven’t done before,” Slater replied.
“Yeah, and each time I nearly have a heart attack! But go on. Just remember what I said!”
Slater remembered and he’d be mindful. He’d yet to be spanked by his friend, but he could only imagine how bad it would hurt. With that in mind—and not wanting to break any bones today—he was extra cautious as he put one foot on the side of the truck’s bed. “Just a little closer. Almost there.”
The truck veered a little closer to the fleeing animal.
“Going… now!” Slater called out.
But he then realized it would have to wait. A woman was standing in the road, and they were approaching fast.
“Shit!” he heard Jackson yell.
“Move!” Slater said to the woman, using his hands to try and shoo her away.
Jackson swerved to avoid her, and Slater stumbled a bit, but quickly recovered.
“You good?” Jackson yelled.
“I’m fine. She is, too,” Slater said, realizing the woman was thankfully out of harm’s way.
Now, that’s who needed to have her butt busted. It was incredibly dangerous what she’d done. He didn’t know who her Daddy was, but he hoped whoever it was would teach her a lesson.
Now back to the horse, he thought, getting in position once more.
The truck did the same.
“Let’s try this again,” he said. “I’m going… now!”
With that, he leapt from the truck and somehow, as if miraculously guided, landed straight on the back of the horse as if he’d been riding it the whole time.
The jarring impact made him wince, and he shook his head, saying, “I’ll have to ice my damn balls later.”
He couldn’t focus on the pain right now, though. Instead, he put all his effort into getting the runaway beast under control.
Riding bareback wasn’t too difficult for him. So, the lack of a saddle and reins wasn’t the worst part of that fiasco. No, the worst part was that the horse—known affectionately as Rampage—was now pissed that he suddenly had a rider on his back. He stopped long enough to buck wildly, trying to toss the unwelcome guest off.
But this wasn’t Slater’s first rodeo.
He kept calm, even as the horse jerked and torqued. Things only got harder when Rampage turned three quick circles, too.
Slater knew that the magnificent animals had an almost supernatural ability to sense humans’ emotions. If you freaked out, a horse was more likely to freak out. If you stayed calm, chances are the horse would eventually calm down, too.
Even one as cantankerous as Rampage.
So Slater just stayed atop him, squeezing his legs just enough to keep him on and try to guide the animal, but certainly not hurt it.
“That’s it, boy,” he said in a low, friendly tone. “Spin some more. Get it all out of you. Ain’t hurtin’ nothing.”
The horse seemed to understand, shuffling its hooves into two more wild circles.
Rampage was losing steam now, though. He quit bucking and galloped a ways farther down Main Street before finally falling to a soft trot.
Rampage was tired.
“There we go, bud. Just like that,” Slater said, gently petting the horse’s neck. “You gave me a wild ride, that’s for sure. But I’ve been on wilder.”
The animal whinnied and put its head down, almost as if embarrassed.
Slater kept petting it as he looked over his shoulder and saw that Jackson had parked a few yards back.
Smart move, Slater thought.
The big vehicle, and its loud engine might have scared Rampage, sending him off on another mad dash.
Of course, it wasn’t Jackson’s first rodeo, either. He knew a thing or two about horses. Maybe even more than Slater.
Slater watched as Jackson crept quietly closer, holding a bit in his hands. He moved at a snail’s pace. “That’s a good boy,” he said soothingly, putting a gentle hand on the horse and stroking it as he walked up the side. “You sure gave us a scare.”
“And everyone else in town, too,” Slater added with a chuckle. He jerked his head to indicate the crowd of folks—mostly Littles—who had gathered to watch the commotion.
Jackson spent some time petting the animal before he worked the bit into Rampage’s mouth.
“You gave me a scare, too.”
Slater just grinned. “You’ve seen my act.”
“More times than I can count,” Jackson replied.
Slater nodded. “Then you know I do more dangerous stunts than that.”
“Than jumping out of a moving truck onto a galloping horse?” Jackson shook his head but then stopped, sighing.
Slater knew he had him now.
“I reckon you’re right,” Jackson conceded. “And there was no other way.”
“Nope,” Slater said. He slid down, took the reins from Jackson, and started leading the animal back down the street.
“Well, you did good.”
“ We did good,” Slater corrected. “Couldn’t have made that jump if you weren’t behind the wheel of the truck. That was some good driving.”
“You trying to butter me up for something?” Jackson asked.
Slater looked at his friend and saw the smirk he wore. “Nope. Just saying we’re a team. Always have been. Always will be.”
He watched Jackson nod, then they both faced forward again as they ambled causally down the road.
“That was amazing!” a woman shouted, just as they got closer to the pickup. “So freaking amazing! I have to write a story about it!” A faraway look shaded her beautiful, big, brown eyes, as if she was picturing the headline she spoke. “ Hero Cowboys Save Runaway Horse .” She sighed. “The piece practically writes itself.”
Slater laughed. “Ma’am, I’m glad you enjoyed the show. But if you don’t mind, keep that voice down a mite. You’re liable to spook Rampage again.”
“I am?” she asked loudly. She then winced and whispered, “I mean, I am?”
Slater and Jackson were both laughing now. “You could,” Slater said.
“When it comes to horses,” Jackson explained, “they tend to follow folks’ lead. Now, Rampage here just had a wild hair and decided to bolt. That’s usual for him. But when my pard here jumped on his back and stayed calm, the horse fed off him. He calmed down, too. See what I mean?”
Slater grinned as he watched the cutie pondering Jackson’s words. Finally, she nodded. “Pard?” she said with a funny look on her face.
Jackson chuckled. “My pardner. Or partner, I reckon. If we’re being fancy.” He shrugged. “You’ve got to get used to cowboy talk, if you hang around us.”
She giggled.
“But you see what I mean about horses?” he promoted.
She nodded. “Yeah. That makes sense,” she responded. “Ooh. I’ll be sure and put that in the story! Thanks! Hey, maybe I can interview you two.”
Before they could respond, another truck drove toward them, this one towing a horse trailer behind it.
It came to a stop and an older, heavyset man with stark white hair and a matching bushy mustache slid out and hobbled over. “Ornery horse! I thought he was going to get away forever.”
Slater handed the reins to the man. “Nah. We wouldn’t let him. But after all the commotion, it’s best we work on breaking him in another day.”
The older man nodded and said, “Let me get him in the back.”
As he led the animal away, Sheriff Quinn Hardin stepped through the crowd. “Y’all okay?”
“Yep. Sorry for disturbing the peace,” Slater said. “Mr. Clemmons brought Rampage in for us to try and break in that open field just west of town. But I’ll be damned if he didn’t make a run for it as soon as that trailer door opened! Damn near knocked Mr. Clemmons on his ass.” He looked at all the Littles and tipped the black Stetson he wore. “Pardon my language, cuties.”
They all giggled.
“That makes sense,” the sheriff said. “One time I got a call that someone was breaking into a house just outside of town. The lady who lived there was terrified. Anyway, I got there to find it was just Rampage messing around, knocking stuff over on her patio. He’d gotten loose and decided to explore.” He shook his head. “He’s a wild one.”
“He’s aptly named, that’s for sure,” Jackson agreed.
“Anyway, we’re sorry for all that,” Slater said.
Quinn waved it off. “It happens. Just glad you got him and glad no one was hurt.”
“Speaking of no one getting hurt,” Slater said, turning his attention to the woman who’d suggested she write a story about the incident. “Why did you run into the street when we were coming straight for you?”
She looked uneasy as she shuffled on her feet and shrugged. “I wanted to get a good view. So I could remember all the details and accurately write about it.”
“That, little lady, was mighty dangerous,” Slater said.
She smiled. “But I’m a reporter, sir. It’s a dangerous job.”
“Oh, is it?” He put his hands on his hips. “Do you have a Daddy?”
“No.”
“Hmm.” He shook his head.
“What, sir?”
“That means no one is going to spank your bottom. And that’s exactly what you need. A good, solid spanking. After pulling a stunt like that…” He let his words trail off.
Jackson picked up where he left off. “Slater’s right. If I ever see you do something like that again, it might be me who takes you across his knee.”
The woman blushed hard.
The sheriff chuckled. “Slater, Jackson, meet Mina Palmer. She’s new in town. Came up from Dallas to run the newspaper.”
Slater couldn’t help but smile. He noticed Jackson had softened, too.
And he knew his best friend well enough to know exactly what he was thinking. Because he, himself, was thinking the exact same thing.
Mina Parker sure was a cutie. An absolute doll.