Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
The gate clanged loud when Raul kicked it, his boot bouncing hard off the bottom rail. He didn’t feel it, his adrenaline and anger making his whole body numb. Seven and a half seconds. So close, before he slid to the side and the bull pushed him right off the back end.
He slammed the gate open and stalked past the cameraman who wanted to push the camera into his face, growling a little and putting his head down. When he got to the locker room he threw his rope, listening to it crash against the wall with a sense of satisfaction.
Deus. He was never going to earn enough money to stay on the tour if he could not stay on a bull!
He fumed, muscles so tight he almost jumped out of his skin when a cold bottle pressed against his arm. “Water?”
Joaquim looked knowing, understanding, the huge bruise covering one side of the man’s face and neck proving how much Joa understood.
Sighing, he nodded, trying to dredge up a smile. “Thank you.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. He liked Joa so much, probably too much, the way the man was with Baltazar Silva. Raul wouldn’t want to get too attached and be crushed.
“Yeah.” Joa nodded, clapped him on the shoulder, then headed over to take off the bright blue chaps.
Raul watched, trying not to drool. Joaquim had a fine bottom, all round and hard, and all that bending and pulling made it even better.
Joaquim’s eyes met his, twinkling. “You coming to supper with us again?”
He’d been invited every evening they rode for three events now. It was torture, even as it was a pleasure. He adored Joa.
“I…” Oh, he wanted to. He liked Balta, too, even if Balta looked at him like a wolf looked at a rabbit. “I would love to, Joa.”
“Good. It’s good to have a place. Where do you go during the break?” They were coming up on one—three weekends of freedom.
He had been planning to go home. Now he could not afford to. Raul shrugged, trying to be casual. “I have not decided yet, you know?”
“Ah. Sim. Well, if you like, I have a place. Nothing big, just a little house and barns and grass. Horses. Balta will come sometimes. You could stay, too.”
He met Joaquim’s laughing eyes, feeling his belly flutter. Bobo. Fool. Surely Joa did not mean that. “I would like that.”
Oh, that smile. It made him forget about the ride, about the fury. “Buon. It will be good, for you to be with us.”
“Obrigado, Joaquim.” He finally let go and grinned, taking what was offered and only what was offered. Friendship. “You’re good to me.”
“You’re a good man.” He got a firm, one-armed hug, Joaquim patting him on the back. “Come. Balta will ride soon. We’ll pull rope.”
“Sim.” That would finish the rest of his worries, going back out there and letting the excitement of the other riders make him smile. Raul hugged Joa back, pounding his back before walking back out, back up that long hallway to the arena.
Balta was talking to Gerardo, hands waving, a huge grin on the strong face.
Larger than life and twice as busy, Balta could be an intimidating figure.
Raul was as fascinated as he was half-afraid.
Balta could easily overwhelm him, bend him.
Joaquim was much sweeter, less confusing.
Raul climbed the stairs and pushed through the crowd of cowboys, feeling Joaquim at his back.
“Hey! You come to help me, huh?” Balta grabbed his arm, clapping him on the shoulder with the other hand. “Look what Joa brought us, Gerardo! Some good help.”
Raul couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face as he nodded. “Anything you need.”
“Sim. Balta’s pulled a good one. This bull likes him.
” Joaquim bounced on his toes, giving Balta a lopsided grin.
Balta gave Joaquim a nod in return, one that made Raul feel like an intruder on a very private moment.
Oh, he knew Balta could make almost anyone feel that way at any time, but Joaquim was special, Raul could tell.
Then it was time, and everything was all business. Joaquim held Balta’s vest, let him go around to pull rope.
“Tighter, Raul.” Balta rode with the Brazilian rope, off to the side, and he hated to slip. Raul had found that out very fast.
He pulled harder, waiting for Balta to tell him to stop before helping wrap the rope for Balta to grab with gloved fingers. Then he faded back over the rails to stand next to Joaquim.
Balta nodded and they started hollering, all of them in a row, hooting and slapping the rail.
Chin down, arm in perfect position, Balta rode like a champion, leg kicking out to spur in the last two seconds of the ride.
He looked good. Really good. Raul found himself jumping up and down and beating on Joa’s arm.
“Balta!” Joaquim beamed, bouncing like a jack-in-the-box as Balta hopped off, fists beating the air.
Balta even danced, just like Joa would, even if he didn’t bend at the waist so good. It made Raul laugh, and he pumped a fist when Balta glanced at them, dimples carved deep into his cheeks. The scores came in and Balta beamed, heading for the short-go. Joa was so pleased, so proud.
Raul felt his mood fall again, the rush of Balta’s ride leaving him. None of this was really his—he just lived it through Joa and Balta, nice as they were. Maybe he should go back to Brazil. After the American circuit, he would have an easier time there, make more money than he had.
Joaquim touched the scar on his chin, so quickly he could have imagined it. “Balta buys tonight.”
“Yeah.” Blinking, he leaned closer, pretending it was so Joa could hear him. “He’ll be full of smiles and talk, sim?”
“He will. We’ll hear stories.” Joaquim chuckled, winked. “Now, here he comes to tell about his ride.”
Springing up to the end of the steps, Balta waved them down, smiling, hands already going, recounting the ride. Raul stared, not really listening, just admiring.
At the end of the story, Joaquim nodded, patting Balta on the shoulder. “Sim. Sim, I have good news, too. Raul says he’ll come with us, to the ranch.”
Balta’s brows rose, but he didn’t seem angry. No, he seemed very happy, clapping his hands. “Perfieto! I was hoping, huh?”
“You were?” Raul couldn’t help it—his surprise got the better of him. “Obrigado, Balta. It means much to me.”
“See? It is all good. Balta will ride. We will eat. Tomorrow, we will go home.” Joaquim was obviously excited. Tickled.
Nodding, Balta flexed, making Joaquim’s eyes go wide. Raul would give a good deal to see that expression directed at him.
“I’ll look forward to it, seeing your home.” He smiled at Joa. “Where are you taking us for supper, Balta?”
“Oh, I think we’ve earned steak, huh? Even if I ride tomorrow, we won’t want to stay around, so I thought we could go to that churrascuria we saw on the way to the hotel…”
Joaquim hooted, that poor bruised face just shining. “Sim. Sim, we were there last year. The feijoada is almost like my mamma’s.”
“Oh, that sounds good…” Feijoada. Raul loved the black bean and meat stew with a passion, and he had not had it since his last trip home. “I’m there.”
They headed back down the hall, Balta laughing, Joaquim jabbering happily, dragging him along.
Raul knew he still had a long way to go before he would ever understand how things worked, both on the tour and with Balta and Joa. With the prospect of feijoada and a little time off, though, Raul thought he might just live long enough to try.