Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
WEST
Junk Yards and Training Hard
“Stay straight. Tall. Lean forward. No, not that much. Hand up. Up. Up, goddamn it. Wave it about like it’s your favorite thing in the world. Six, seven—fuck.”
I don’t even wince as Dustan hits the ground for the third time in as many rides. The lightweight bull prances away, particularly proud of himself, apparently, for giving us all hope before dumping his rider back where he started at the entrance to the training chute.
The area that Cord and Billy set up at the back of the main arena for tonight is perfect for training. There’s twenty minutes left on our slot and I intend to maximize every second. Slade is running as ringside clown for me, dressed in knee-length shorts and a bright, multicolored shirt.
“Here, bully, bully, bully,” Slade mutters under his breath, presenting his ass to Parental Suicide and wiggling it.
The poorly named bull ignores him and paws the sawdust, digging in while my clock expires.
“I don’t think either of those things is doing what you hope it is doing,” I call, pressing the heel of my boot into the metal railing. “All right. Dustan? Let’s try a few more rides before we run outta time today, okay?”
“Yeah. Gotcha, boss.” Dustan rubs the back of his head, and grit falls free from his hair.
Slade scoops Dustan’s hat out of the dirt-and-dust mix beneath his feet, tossing it to him as he herds the bull into the chute, a one-man army all on his own. I pull the door to the chute closed with a rope and cheer Dustan on.
“Good job, man. Get over here,” I call to my protégé. “Come on. People are going to arrive shortly. You need to be cleaned up; otherwise you’ll be doing the initial presentation with grit in your ass crack.”
“Been there before.” Dustan wiggles his ass at me, and suddenly I’m presented with two denim-clad butts, both waggling at me.
“Did you really expect anything less from this dick?” Trixie hauls herself up next to me and points at Slade. “Waggle faster!” she yells through cupped hands.
Slade dances for us, and the bull bangs his shorn horns on the chute in time with Trixie’s clapping.
“Good thing it’s the practice bull,” I say, throwing my clipboard onto the seats behind me as my practice round goes to hell. “Are we gonna get one more ride in, at least?”
“Yeah, we can do one more.” Dustan clambers up onto the rails and passes me his hat. I place it on top of mine in a stack that rains grit, but I don’t care. All that matters is that he practices and is safe.
“Come on. Concentrate. On the bull. That’s right. What?” I snap, then softening my tone when I realize the elbow in my ribs comes from Trixie.
“West. He knows what he’s doing. Let him think.” She rubs her shoulder against mine. “You were never this tough on Cordell.”
I manage a smile that feels alien on my face. “Cord nearly died, twice,” I mutter, knowing Dustan is listening.
“And neither of those times was your fault,” she reminds me.
“Once was a freak accident. The other—” She shrugs.
“That ain’t gonna never happen again here, cowboy.
Every person on the Invitational crew is vetted by Slade there.
” Something akin to pride laces her voice even though I know they’ll probably be at each other’s throats—or in each other’s bed—by the end of the night.
“Did he?” I look over at Slade, who’s stopped horsing around in order to help Dustan secure his seat. He’s talking quietly in Dustan’s ear, and the same calming effect passes to the bull as well. “Not bad,” I approve.
Trixie’s bump isn’t quite as aggressive this time. “Is that a compliment, Mister West?” She feigns shock.
I snort, looking over at Trix with her raised eyebrows and backed-off stance. Okay, maybe it’s not so fake. “Get off the railing. Don’t you have your own practice to do?” I berate her lightly.
“Done and dusted. My ride is in the bag.” She hops off my rail and steps back, her arms folded and chin up. “I’m here to provide moral support only, cowboy.”
“You’re here to annoy fuck outta that man, Trix. Don’t you pretend any different.” I grin and turn my attention back to Dustan. “How are you feeling?”
He takes his time, not jumping to answer me like he has the last few times. “I’m feeling good.”
“All right, then.” I get the nod from Slade, who sits back but doesn’t take his eyes off my boy. “I’m gonna count you in and open the chute. Three, two—”
I pull the rope. The chute opens. The bull rips out of the small metal enclosure, and it’s decided that this round is its Kodak moment.
Pity it’s not in front of the crowd. I don’t need to count the next eight seconds out. I don’t need to breathe with Dustan. I know he’s made it before my timer goes off.
So does he.
He jumps off Parental Suicide and whoops. “Hell, yes!”
“Good job.” I hold the rope as Slade pushes the bull back into his lane and through to the rest yard, where he’ll stay now until he’s trucked out tomorrow morning after the event. “Damn, that was a good eight. Well done, kid.”
Dustan glows. “Fuck it. If I don’t—”
I hold up a hand. “Don’t you dare say it.
I don’t wanna hear those words ever come outta your mouth.
That was a fine ride. Now you know what it feels like.
Get showered. Slade’ll show you where his trailer is.
” I point to the tall cowboy, who whips off his colorful shirt to show off to Trix, but she turns her back and ignores the show of abs.
“Yeah, I got you. Come on. Let’s get you glitzed and ready. West has gotta go grump around for a bit, pick some fights, but then he’ll be on your side. Won’t you?” Slade sends me a hard glare like I’m gonna fuck this up for Dustan.
“I’ll be there. His clothes are in a bag in the back of my truck.” I wave to them both, and eye Trixie as I pass her. “You need me to say anything to that man?” I watch Slade interact with her, wondering if I need to step in and have words with the other man on her behalf anyway.
She shakes her hair out. “You’re as bad as Winnie.”
I stare at her. “What about Winnie?”
Trixie snorts. “That girl tells every man she dates that she loves him within a few hours of seeing him. It’s a defense mechanism after all the shit she’s endured from The Asshole, you know? And a lesson learned in advance by the rest of us. Thanks, but I can look after myself.”
“Can you,” I manage as acid brews low in my gut and surges upward.
A sparkle forms in her eyes. “I can. See you in a few hours, Mister West.” She sashays away, rolling her hips.
Apparently she’s good on her own.
My world tilts on its axis even as I glance back over my shoulder and find Slade practically drooling in the sawdust in the shade she gives him while Dustan provides him a different sort of pep talk.
I love you.
Yeah, I know.
Suddenly those words don’t mean the same thing I expected from the other night, or the first time she told me at all.
I’m glad Dustan’s there for Slade because I’m not up for a romance/bromance chat tonight, or probably any night. Trix is right. I need to find Winnie. And I need to clear the air between us once and for all.
“Jesse Duke is Coyote Falls’s newest rider.
This isn’t his first appearance at the Valiant Peak Invitational, so you already know who he is.
Give the local boy a hand and welcome him back for this year’s ride!
” Levi’s voice carries across the open area that’s packed with more people than I’ve ever seen as he introduces tonight’s riders before the rodeo prayer from the chaplain.
Constant chatter fills my ears with the sort of background noise that’s impossible to ignore. Bright lights bear down on every surface, leaving few shadows around the stadium until I reach the back areas, where the crew trucks and bulls are kept in the dimmer lighting.
The Valiant Peak crew have outdone themselves, under both Slade’s eye and Billy’s.
I have to give the Coyote man grudging respect for pulling the new stadium together without what looks like a single hitch.
The structure is sturdy enough that I’m starting to wonder how long Cord’s had this one under his hat in planning, and what the aftermath will look like to take it down. If there is an aftermath.
Dustan is up next, but he doesn’t need my help to jazz it up for the Valiant Peak crowd, who have brought in the population from every neighboring town that I can see to swell the numbers.
“How many people have we had through the gates tonight?” I ask Slade as he passes.
He glances at me sideways. “You shouldn’t be back here, man. Six thousand, one hundred, and fourteen. More action than this town’s seen in a decade. Now get out of here and let me run this damn show.”
I laugh at his back, a hard edge to my voice that no one except me seems to hear. “Good numbers. I thought Billy was in charge.”
“Like hell he is. Billy’s good, but he can stay his ass at Coyote Falls,” Slade grumbles, rounding the corner. A moment later there’s a soft sound that is nothing like the cowboy’s more guttural personal language. Trixie’s sass answers him right back.
Starting early. I grin to myself as I hightail it back to the main arena, keen to catch the pre-rodeo show. In no world do I want to walk in on Trixie and Slade getting comfortable with each other. It’s easier to watch them cutting shreds off the person they hate most at any given time.
“Next up, Valiant Peak’s own barrel rider, Trixie Mayberry!”
Dammit, I missed Dustan’s introduction. My teeth clench on the need to laugh and snort at once. Not if they don’t hurry the hell up.
“Turn and Burn” by the Sam Riggs Band plays as Levi talks up Trixie’s bio and everything she’s won.
I crane my neck, searching for Trix, and find her stalking away from the trailer area.
Her hair is a mess and she’s still buttoning her shirt.
I close my eyes and suppress a groan, knowing what’s coming next. When I pry them open, I know I’m right.