David tucked the tail of his piggin’ string into his belt and clenched the small loop between his teeth as he rode Frosty into the box. He was conscious of the circle of spectators hanging over the fences, the boys plus their parents and a few friends, but only in an abstract way. He was used to having an audience. Years of habit had narrowed his focus to horse, rope, and calf.
He nodded, took two quick swings, and threw, already stepping out into his right stirrup as the loop went around the calf’s neck, pulling back on the reins with his left hand as he dismounted to speed up Frosty’s stop. His boots hit the ground, five long strides, block the calf, flank, tie, hands in the air. Smooth as silk.
He remounted his horse, rode forward to put slack in the rope, his mind replaying the run, picking out flaws as a pair of boys untied the calf. David built a new loop, put his piggin’ string in his mouth, rode in the box and did it again. And again. Three runs in a row because, as he’d explained to Galen and the boys, immediate repetition was important to get your mind and body in the groove. At home he would’ve run twenty head, but these boys had come to rope, not stand around and watch him all day.
When he pulled his hooey on the third calf and threw up his hands, a smattering of applause broke out. David’s concentration broke, and when he turned Frosty around to ride back to the end of the arena, he saw every individual face.
Sam grinned like he’d tied the calves himself. Galen nodded approvingly. Kylan and Starr stood beyond the fence in front of the bleachers beside the roping chutes, both sullen-faced, and Mary sat a few rows up beside a blond woman.
It took David’s brain a few beats to switch gears, put a name to the familiar face. Hilary Chapman. David raised a hand in greeting, and Rusty’s wife responded in kind with the first welcoming smile he’d seen in days. David smiled back. When Rusty was still on the road, Hilary had been like a den mother, always looking out for the younger, single guys like David who didn’t have a wife along to be sure they got a decent meal once in a while.
If David ever did get involved with another woman, it would be with someone like Hilary. Sweet, understanding, possessed of the unshakable faith and infinite patience a woman needed to stand behind a man who made his living on the rodeo trail. Plus, she had a decent-paying job and summers off. Didn’t get much better for a cowboy. Hilary made killer blueberry pancakes and lousy coffee, and the last time David had seen her, she’d fed breakfast to a whole herd of starving cowboys in Salinas.
It was a day he’d like to forget, and not just because of the crappy coffee.
The memory twisted a dull knife in David’s gut. That morning in Salinas had dawned so bright and full of hope. After a miserable winter, he’d finally put a couple decent runs together at a big rodeo, made the short round, drawn a really good calf. He was on the verge of getting back on track.
But he’d fumbled his slack and knocked the calf off its feet so he couldn’t get a clean flank, a small mistake that had cost enough time to take him out of the money. As usual, he’d called Emily, looking for comfort. What he got instead had caught him flat-footed, like a double-barreled mule kick to the chest.
“I’m sorry, David. I know rodeo is the only thing you’ve ever wanted, but I can’t take it anymore.”
What she’d meant was she couldn’t take him anymore…and she’d already found a replacement. Hilary had known all the sordid details. Hell, every roper on the pro circuit had known, plus their wives and kids. David’s poker face hadn’t been any better back then. The echo of the pain and humiliation, the memory of all those sympathetic looks and wordless slaps on the shoulder had the back of his neck going hot even today.
And now here was Hilary, her head close to Mary’s, no doubt telling her the whole sorry tale. David couldn’t have felt more naked if he was standing in the middle of the arena in his BVDs. He swung off his horse and led Frosty to an open spot along the fence, loosening the cinches and giving him a rub between the ears before flipping the rein around a post.
Hilary got up and came to meet him. “Nice roping.”
“Nice calves. If I could run those little pooches everywhere I went, my summer would be going a lot better.”
Hilary reached through the fence to squeeze his hand. “It’s good to see you, David. Even better to see Muddy.”
“He looks great, doesn’t he?” David said, not sure whether to return the squeeze, let go, or just stand there like a lump.
“As good as Muddy has ever looked,” Hilary said, a teasing gleam in her eye. David laughed.
“Well, I never hauled him ’cause he was pretty. Do you know if Rusty got my message today?”
She shook her head. “He left early to do some fencing on our summer grazing lease, probably won’t be back until suppertime, but I’ll make sure he checks the machine.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
She squeezed his hand again. “If you have time, come and rope with Rusty and stay for dinner if you can. Here…” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to him. “That’s our address, if you have GPS. And directions if you don’t.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
She turned and walked back to Mary, who was standing at the bottom of the bleachers talking to Kylan. David caught snatches of the conversation, Mary telling Kylan it was okay, patting his arm. He shook her off. She lowered her voice, put her hand firmly on his shoulder, and talked up at him, her body language fierce.
Kylan shook his head. “I want to go.”
“You need to stay, help push calves and run the chute,” Mary said.
David glanced over at their trailer. Muddy was tied to the side, unsaddled. Kylan had packed it in for the day. Might as well. He wouldn’t accomplish anything until Galen got on Muddy and made a few tune-up runs.
Except it wouldn’t be Galen any more; it would be David, and he wouldn’t be worried about whether the horse would work for Kylan. They thought Muddy was strong now. Once David got him dialed up to full speed, Kylan wouldn’t even be able to ride him out of the box, let alone rope on him.
Starr tugged on Mary’s arm. “Just this once, Mary. He’ll make it up next time. He needs a break.” Starr shot a glare at David, in case anybody was unclear on what was upsetting Kylan.
Mary hesitated and then sighed. “Okay. Fine. Where are you going?”
“Over to my house,” Starr said. “We’re gonna watch some videos and stuff.”
Stuff? David could imagine what that might involve with a pair of teenagers in an empty house in the middle of the day. They took off before Mary could change her mind. She climbed up to sit beside Hilary, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. David went back to stand beside the roping box as Sam rode up on an ancient buckskin with knobby, arthritic knees.
“Hey, Dave, should I run this one?” Sam asked.
“David,” he corrected automatically.
“Huh?”
“My name is David. I don’t answer to Dave. Or Davey.”
“Why not?”
“Because I prefer David.”
“Oh.” Sam’s forehead creased. “I don’t like it when people call me Sammy.”
“Then say so. A man should at least get to decide what name he answers to.”
Sam looked startled, then thoughtful, as if the idea was growing on him. “Okay. Should I run this calf, David?”
David grinned. Cheeky little brat. “Go for it.”
He glanced over and found Mary staring at him, a perturbed crease between her eyebrows. Their eyes met, held for moment, that same electric charge crackling in the air. The chute banged open, and the calf ducked around to the left and nearly over the top of David. He shooed it away, barking, “Stop, Sam.”
Sam stopped his horse, kicking up a swirl of dust that the breeze tossed in David’s face. Geezus. Was it ever not some kind of windy here?
David walked over to the roping box, gesturing. “That happened because you let your horse break wide out of the corner, instead of straight in behind the calf. A good run starts right here…”
For the moment he forgot about everything but what he wanted the boys to understand. This was his place in the world. Here, inside the arena fence, he knew exactly what needed to be done and how to do it. The rest could wait.