CHAPTER NINE
-:- DALLAS -:-
Walking around the corner of the clubhouse, I stop and stare in utter shock.
There is a host of women standing there as well as some of the club brothers.
Doing a quick head count, I make it ten women standing and four brothers.
As I approach, however, the standing crowd parts, and I see more women sitting on a bench and chairs that have been brought out from the clubhouse.
Most of the women are wearing cowboy hats of one description or another.
Some look like they belong on a bachelorette night, others are just cheap knock-off Stetsons, but one is certainly the real deal.
What all the women have in common is the rope they have in their hands.
Each one has her own lasso. They came prepared, I’ll give them that, even though I didn’t know they were coming.
“I’m very sorry, Dallas,” Raven says as she steps forward. “I think this is my fault. I told Grease, my old man, that you were going to teach me and Cora the basics of lassoing tonight. He told Mav who told his ol’ lady, Blake, who told Mia, who told…Well, you get the picture.”
“I was expecting others to be here, too, but not this many. I can’t even show everyone the basics with this number of people in a class. I wasn’t expecting any brothers to be here, either.”
“Oh, no. The brothers aren’t here to watch.
” Raven shakes her head. “No...No…No. They are the steers, cows, targets, whatever you want to call them. Amelia volunteered their services, and they don’t refuse when Amelia ‘suggests’ things to them.
Watch.” Putting a finger and thumb into her mouth, she gives out a whistle that an old-time steam train would be proud of.
Silence reigns, and everyone looks at her.
“Steers! Front and center!” She shouts with a voice to match a drill sergeant.
The brothers step forward and as they do, they pull something from their pockets and place it firmly on their heads.
All the women clap and cheer, but I just stand there with my mouth hanging open totally aghast. I look to the cheering women and back to the brothers before I burst into laughter and tears stream down my face. Oh, my good Lord!
Standing before me are four butch, masculine, fine specimens of alpha manhood.
Boots, jeans and leather waistcoats, cuts I believe they call them.
They are hot men! Until you look at their heads.
Each one is wearing a knitted hat that was clearly knitted by someone like their grandmother.
That isn’t even the worst part. Sticking out the side of the hat are a pair of horns.
They look like the type of thing you buy at the pet store for a Rottweiler to chew on.
What is even worse than that is…One of the hats has a horn UPSIDE DOWN!
“That one was Tina’s. She originally thought all cows had horns like in the old movies. You know, Texas Longhorns?”
“Yes, I know Texas Longhorns very well,” I respond.
“Well, when Carol was talking to her, Tina said she didn’t know if she could knit a hat that would support horns that size.
She told Tina that not all cows had such big horns, and that she needed to think smaller.
Tina being Tina, googled a picture of cow horns, and what came up was a funny picture not a factual picture, so tah-dah!
One wonky steer hat.” Raven looks to Tina who has guessed that her hat would be talked about and is watching for my reaction.
Giving her my most serious frown, I then ball my fists, stick my thumbs up as high and straight as they can go, raise them to my chin and nod violently while smiling as wide as I can.
She does the same back, and Carol, seeing our excitement does the same.
In her excitement though, she nods so hard her teeth pop out and fall into her lap.
What am I supposed to do with this lot, I ask myself. I can’t possibly teach all of these in one class or even in one session. It will take hours to go around everyone, to just show them how to hold and spin a lasso, never mind throwing the darn thing.
“Okay, ladies. Does anyone know how to lasso?” What a stupid question, I think to myself.
“Oh, yeah. I know how to rope a steer.” Everyone turns and we all stare at the lady in the genuine Stetson. Not only does she have the Stetson, but now that I can see her she has the boots, jeans and even a damn fine cowboy shirt complete with frills.
“Okay, then. Step forward and let’s see what you can do.” Pointing to ‘floppy horn steer,’ I tell him to move out thirty feet and get the women to give us some room. As she approaches, I recognize her as ‘furry woman’ from the training run.
I have to ask. “Did your man get his reward for winning the run?”
Looking at me, she wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh, bloody hell, he did! He thinks the reward was for him, but I know what he’ll ask for every time! I just throw that out whenever I feel the need for a serious sex session! Never fails.”
Oh, wow. I wasn’t expecting that.
“We’ve never been formally introduced. I’m Dallas. Where did you learn to rope?”
“Hi Dallas. I’m Star. I dated a cowboy many moons ago in my wild days. One of those things that sounds better than it actually is. I learned only two things from him. How to rope and don’t date a cowboy.” Star laughs, and I laugh with her.
“I was a cowgirl for eight years, and though many tried, I never succumbed to a cowboy. Not that I wasn’t tempted on occasion, but the rule of never dating a coworker really helped. Okay, show me what ya got.”
Stepping away to give her some room, I watch as she checks her rope and drops a loop out.
The crowd starts cheering and shouting encouragement.
Watching closely as she starts to twirl the lasso, I’m surprised at how quickly she throws the loop.
It drops neatly over the brother, and she pulls it tight.
The crowd goes nuts! Star walks out to the brother and coils her rope as she goes. I see her say something to the brother who nods and grins. Back at her starting point she states, “One more go, just to show it wasn’t a fluke.”
Preparing her loop and starting the twirl, the brother suddenly starts running around like a lunatic. If this is what she told him to do when she whispered to him, she had better be good. The loop snaps out, and once again drops over the brother.
I’m pleasantly surprised when it catches the brother so smoothly and accurately.
Clapping along with the rest of the crowd, I watch as Star takes a bow and then coils her rope again.
When she reaches her steer, he scoops her up and kisses the hell out of her, without an ounce of embarrassment in front of everyone. I hadn’t recognized ‘furry man.’
Asking Star if she’d be okay joining in training some of the women, she agrees immediately.
We split the group into two teams of four of the wives, or ol’ ladies, and two of the genuine old ladies.
I include Raven and Cora in my group, as I did say that I would teach them, and I get Tina and Carol, too.
Taking two of the steers with us, we move a decent distance from Star and her group to give us all plenty of room.
Floppy horn steer stays with Star, of course.
The first thing I do is teach them about their rope. What it’s made of. How to hold it, why we hold it that way. When we start the twirling stage, I immediately notice Carol and Tina struggling.
“Okay, ladies. I know this is fun, but let’s not injure ourselves. If it’s too strenuous, just speak up and we can try another day.” I hope they are going to give up gracefully because if they don’t, I’m going to have to be Miss Assertive and make them quit.
“I don’t think another day will make the slightest difference, Dallas.
We didn’t think it through. It’s far too physical for us now.
Twenty years ago, I’d have roped, hogtied and ridden one of those steers 'til his nose bled!” Tina looks at the brothers being roped by the others, and I see the wistful look in her eyes.
Carol must see it or feel it too, as she agrees. “Yep, I would have ridden my Michael like you see them on the bull-riding. I’d have yeehawed him into the middle of next week.”
“Well, that’s as it may be, but you sit this one out.” Oh, my heavens. I never heard such things come out of my grandma’s mouth. Mind you, she died before I was old enough to know about such things, but looking back, she was hell on wheels when she wanted to be.
Raven struggles with the throwing, but Cora takes to it like she was born on a ranch. The competition between those two is fierce to say the least, but also in a good way.
I have Mia and Jo as well. Now Mia is probably number two to Cora’s one and just above Raven’s three.
Jo is an optimistic twenty! She can’t hold the rope correctly for some reason, and when she goes to twirl the loop, she twirls the wrong hand.
The rope will kill anyone in the vicinity as it suddenly lashes out like a darn bullwhip.
She has absolutely no coordination between hand and eye when it comes to this type of thing.
I even caught one of the steers throwing her rope over itself to give her ego a boost. I wonder if that was Mr. Jo in the woolly hat and horns?
Looking around I see Sandy and Joan have given up too, and are sitting as observers with Tina and Carol.
Those that they call The Three Stooges were wise enough to know their limits, although I did see Star take a rope off the one they call Amelia.
What she was going to do with it, I dread to think!
Telling everyone that we’d have another session, I deliberately don’t give a date or time. I’ll choose who to invite next time and also see if Star is available again.
Seeing Cork leaning against the clubhouse wall watching, I wonder how long he’s been there and what exactly he was watching. Walking over to him, I think he’s watching me, and with more than a little interest. Hmm, I like this.