Chapter SevenSpotlight Rodeo
The Texas heat feels like a living thing pressing against my skin.
Two months have gone by since I last saw Jolene Callahan in the flesh---or even on a TV screen.
After our mind-blowing sex in her pickup truck, she threw me away like a discarded takeout box.
Whatever her problem is, I don't give a hoot anymore.
My career as a professional rodeo cowboy takes precedence over just about everything else.
That includes Jo Callahan.
Fortunately, there's no rodeo today. I've arrived a few days early because.
..No, it has nothing to do with a certain sexy barrel racer.
Like I said, my career as a professional rodeo cowboy matters more than anything else these days.
My stats have improved enough that I'm actually making decent money now---not championship-level money, but enough to keep the ranch afloat for a while and make sure Dad's medical bills remain under control. That's what matters.
This isn't my first time performing at a Texas rodeo, but it is my debut at Frontier Days in Weatherford, the seat of Parker County. I hear there'll be a big kickoff in a few days featuring a cattle drive, a parade, and a street dance. Now that's what I need after so long on the road.
I adjust my hat and survey the rodeo grounds which are already bustling with activity this morning.
Everybody wants to get an early start to adjust to the new environment.
The familiar scent of hay, leather, and livestock fills my senses and centers me in a way nothing else can.
This is my world, and I've earned my place in it with blood, sweat, and sheer determination.
"Clay McKendrick, you son of a gun!"
Buck's voice booms across the grounds, and I grin as I turn to see him striding toward me.
The man looks the same as ever---weathered face, silver belt buckle catching the morning sun, and that infectious energy that makes everyone around him feel like they're about to witness something extraordinary.
"Buck, you crafty old coot!" I shout, grinning as I jog across the distance between us with long strides. "Didn't expect to see you here. Thought you were calling Cheyenne this week."
"Switched up my schedule at the last minute.
" He clasps my shoulder with a firm grip.
"Couldn't miss seeing my favorite up-and-comer take on Weatherford.
It's an iconic site for rodeo, and some famous cowboys have made their names here.
Besides, the sponsors requested me specifically.
" He winks, tapping the side of his nose.
"Seems someone's been generating quite the buzz lately. "
I bow my head and clear my throat. Ever since that night with Jo, something bizarre has been happening.
Photos of us dancing appeared on social media, and suddenly people were gossiping about Clay McKendrick---the Montana cowboy who caught the eye of rodeo royalty.
Sponsors had started reaching out, and my performance numbers had climbed steadily.
I guess Jo was right about exposure after all.
"Just focusing on my upcoming events," I reply to Buck.
But we both know it's more than that. Buck is a smart man. The visibility strategy Jo had laid out before the pickup truck sex incident has been working better than I ever imagined. "Hey Buck, who else is competing this weekend?"
His expression shifts slightly, and I catch something in his eyes that makes my mouth go dry.
"Well now, interesting you should ask. Got quite the lineup this time around.
Sterling's here, of course, along with most of the usual suspects.
" He pauses, studying my face. "And word is Jo Callahan's making an appearance too. "
My throat constricts, but I keep my expression neutral. "That so?"
"Yep. Heard she's been having quite the season herself. Three first-place finishes in the last month alone." Buck's wrinkles crease into what might be concern or humor---with him, it's hard to tell. "Are you two still...?"
"Still what?" I cut him off, a bit too hastily. "There was never any 'us,' Buck. Just a couple of drinks and some dancing."
Yeah, I'm leaving out the scorching sex in Jo's truck. Nobody needs to hear about that.
Buck raises an eyebrow but knows better than to pester me. Smart man. The truth is, I've been struggling to forget about that night for two months now, and I'm not about to dissect it with Buck in the middle of the rodeo grounds where anyone might overhear.
"Right, nothing at all between you and Jo," the old man says, drawing out the word as if it sounds odd to his ears.
"Well, anyway, she's scheduled to compete Saturday evening.
Barrel racing finals." He adjusts his hat, squinting at me in the subdued morning light.
"Might want to prepare yourself, son. This circuit's smaller than you think and avoiding someone gets mighty difficult when you're both chasing prize money. "
I grunt and return my attention to unloading Thunder from the trailer. The gelding snorts as I lead him down the ramp, eager to stretch his legs after the long drive.
"Not avoiding anyone," I mutter, more to myself than to Buck. "No time for women or gossip or...whatever."
"Mm-hm." Buck's knowing hum grates on my nerves. "Well, while you're avoiding the ladies, you might want to know the PRCA brass will be watching this weekend. Word is they're looking for fresh faces for their promotional materials next season."
That gets my attention. "Promotional materials?"
"Posters, commercials, maybe even some of those fancy social media campaigns the kids are all about these days.
" Buck rocks back on his heels, seeming entirely too pleased with himself.
"Jo Callahan had a good idea, son. Her plan must've rubbed off on you.
People are talking about Clay McKendrick these days. "
I busy myself with checking Thunder's legs, trying not to let Buck see how his words have affected me.
Promotional materials for the PRCA would mean serious money---the kind that could keep the ranch secure for years, not just months.
"That's, uh...good to know, Buck. I'll be sure to bring my A-game. "
"You'll need more than that, kid." He lowers his voice to a near whisper. "They're looking for the complete package. Someone with skill, sure, but also someone with star quality. Someone the fans connect with."
I straighten up, fixing him with a hard stare. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
He holds my gaze, unflinching. "I'm suggesting that whatever happened between you and Jo Callahan caught people's attention in a way that your riding alone never did. Chemistry like that doesn't come along every day."
"There is no chemistry," I snap, then immediately regret my tone when Buck's eyebrows shoot up.
"Whoa there, son. Guess I hit a nerve, hey?" He holds up his hands in surrender, but the knowing gleam in his eyes is unmistakable. "All I'm saying is opportunity doesn't knock twice. Sometimes you gotta open the door even if you're not sure what's on the other side."
I turn back to Thunder, running my hand along his neck to calm myself as much as him. "Sorry. It's been a long drive."
"Always is." Buck checks his watch and sighs. "Gotta run. I have a meeting with the event coordinator in ten. But listen, there's a little get-together at The Rusty Spur tonight. Sponsors, competitors, the whole rodeo family. Might be worth showing your face."
"Uh-huh. I'll think about it."
Buck gazes at something past my shoulder, then winks at me. "Have fun, kid."
Then he saunters away.
And I whirl around to see...Jolene Callahan.
I probably look like a cartoon character with my eyes almost popping out of my head and my mouth hanging open far enough to let a squirrel crawl in there.
I'd figured Jo might turn up at the Parker County rodeo event.
But somehow, I still wasn't prepared for seeing her again.
Jo sashays up to me. "Hello, Clay, how've you been?"
"Uh, good. How about you?" What a dumbass conversation we're having. "Will you be competing in the barrel racing event?"
"You bet I will," she declares, adjusting her hat so it shields her eyes from the Texas sun. "Been on a winning streak lately. Three firsts in the last month."
I nod, trying to act like I didn't already know that. Like I haven't been tracking her results in every rodeo publication I can get my hands on.
"Congrats." I avoid glancing at her, instead fussing with Thunder's lead rope in my hands. "I'm happy for you, Jo."
She ambles toward me, and the familiar scent of her wafts in the air, sensual and sweet. "Clay, about that night in Durango---"
"Water under the bridge," I cut her off, not wanting to rehash how she tossed me out of her truck with cab fare like I was some cheap hookup. "We both got what we needed."
She bites her lip, and something almost like hurt flickers over her features before her trademark mask slides back into place. "Right. Of course." She adjusts her hat again, a nervous tell I remember. "I just wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any awkwardness between us."
"Nope, it's all good." You big fat liar, Clay. I can practically feel devil horns sprouting on my head. "We're both professionals, Jo. It's all good."
"Glad to hear it." She nods curtly, but her eyes search my face. "Thing is, I heard the PRCA bigwigs are scouting this weekend. Wouldn't want any personal distractions to get in the way for either of us."
The way she says 'distractions' stings more than it probably should. Like what happened between us was nothing more than a momentary lapse in judgment.
"Nice to see you again, Jo," I blurt out while I lead Thunder toward the stables. "I'm here to ride, same as always."
I'm about to turn away when she catches up to me, walking alongside while we shuffle into the stable. "Hold up, Clay, please. I need to talk to you about something."
With a heavy sigh, I halt Thunder and rotate halfway toward Jo. "What is it?"
"I'm so sorry, Clay. I should never have kicked you to the curb that way back in Durango."