Chapter 1

Roxy Looks Back

One Friday after school, 15-year-old Roxy was shooting hoops on the driveway in front of her family home. Basketball was one of her passions, and she was the high-scoring captain of the Drumheller Composite High School Dinos basketball team.

Jasper, Roxy’s two-year-old retriever, sat at attention nearby, his head moving up and down as he followed the motion of the ball. The dog’s glossy fur shone red in the late spring sun.

Roxy paused a moment to catch her breath and spotted her twin brother, Ray, down the road, walking toward home. She snapped her fingers at Jasper to get his attention and rolled the ball along the pavement toward him. When the ball got close enough, he stopped it with his right paw. As she always did when training the dog, she tossed him a treat. “Good boy!”

Then she jogged toward the road, blonde pigtails bouncing against her shoulders. “You’re late,” she called to Ray as she approached him near the end of the driveway. “What were you doing at school so long?”

“Exhibition match,” he replied. “We won every round.” He grinned from one of his Elvis-style sideburns to the other. Family Day Ray arm wrestled on the school team, and the sport meant as much to him as basketball did to Roxy. He also played centre on the Drumheller Dragons Junior A hockey team. As if that were not enough to keep him in prime shape, he was also a top-notch bull rider who had won the Alberta Junior Bull Riding Championships.

“Where’s your rope?” he asked Roxy. “I thought you’d be out here practising.”

She shook her head. “I got my homework done already and now I have the whole weekend to come up with some new stunts.”

“Wild Roping Roxy,” as she was known when performing, was a trick roper. Every summer, she appeared at many of the rodeos in which her brother competed, including the Strathmore Rodeo, where she also ran with the bulls each night.

“I thought you were planning to spend Saturday at the library, buried in some old books,” Ray said.

If Roxy loved anything more than basketball and performing rope tricks, it was Alberta history. She had scored a 99.7 percent on her most recent provincial exam and won a prestigious Lieutenant-Governor’s Award for her thought-provoking essay on the importance of learning Alberta history. With all the reading she had done, she could recall stories of the past whenever she wanted.

Ray’s mention of rope practice set her mind wandering to one of her biggest heroines, the trick roper Grace Maude Bensell, who had changed her name to Florence LaDue to hide from her father after she ran away from home at 15 to join a Wild West show. She’d learned her skills growing up with her grandparents on the Sioux reservation in Minnesota.

While performing in Chicago, Florence met Guy Weadick, a flamboyant cowboy who later founded the Calgary Stampede. After a whirlwind five-week courtship, they got married in Memphis, Tennessee and, as “the Stampede Riders,” performed together in shows. In March 1912, Guy spent seven months creating the very first Calgary Stampede, which took place in September 1912. Florence competed in it and won the title of World Champion Lady Fancy Roper.

Such a romantic story, Roxy always thought.

Her other favourite roper was her own flaming red-haired great-great-grandmother, Leah Anderson, who used the stage name Leah LaSue. “Note that it’s pronounced lasso,” Roxy would always point out.

Leah and Florence were close friends. Leah was only 14 years old when the two first met. Florence was 10 years older and Leah looked up to her like the big sister she’d never had. Leah even asked her for permission to use a stage name that rhymed with her own; Florence was flattered and immediately agreed. But Roxy was not surprised to read that friendship took a backseat when the two cowgirls each held a rope in their hands and went after cold hard cash, prize belt buckles, and titles. Both fierce competitors, they were almost equal in skill with a rope, and Leah finished a close second to Florence at a rodeo in Cheyenne, Wyoming, held a week before the first Calgary Stampede.

The remarkable Florence LaDue.

© Glenbow Archives: na-628-4.

“They were so awesome,” Roxy said under her breath.

Ray’s hand waving in front of her face brought her back to the present. “Earth to Roxy—the library, remember?”

“Oh, I went to the library yesterday. I wanted to find out more about Leah LaSue.”

“Our great-great-whatever? Let me guess—you now know her whole life story and you’re not going to let me go inside until you tell me.”

“Well, yeah...”

By this time, the twins had reached the big front porch. Ray sprawled in a wicker chair, long legs extended, and called Jasper to come and lie beside him. Roxy hoisted herself onto the porch railing facing them. Pretending impatience, Ray ran a hand through his short black hair and made a show of rolling his eyes.

“Oh, cut it out,” Roxy said. “You know you like my true stories of the past—and Leah LaSue is your ancestor too.”

“Okay,” Ray said, “I give up. Even Jasper wants to hear the story.” Though he was lying down, the dog’s head was raised and his brown eyes were trained on Roxy.

“Actually, it’s a sad story,” she began. “Leah never even got to compete in the first Stampede. On the day of the Lady Fancy Roper World Championship, a horse accident crushed her right hand and she had to drop out of the competition. The hand never fully healed and she was unable to twirl a rope ever again.”

Roxy paused for dramatic effect. “To add insult to injury,” she continued, “Leah’s heart was also crushed the very next day. The love of her life, the tall, dark, and handsome Texan cowboy Dallas “Big Boy” McCoy, one of the world’s finest bronc riders and trick ropers, dumped her like a heavy black iron stove falling from the back of a chuckwagon.”

Ray laughed. “Wait a minute—iron stove falling from a chuckwagon? Where’d you get that from?”

“I guess I read it somewhere,” Roxy admitted. “Anyhow, Leah later married Neville Anderson, a night auditor at the Alberta Hotel in downtown Calgary. He was diagnosed with severe asthma six months after the wedding, and they had to sell their 30-acre ranch near DeWinton, along with Leah’s beloved white horse, Triumph. They ended up living in a small two-bedroom house in Calgary’s east end.”

“Quite a story,” Ray said. “I bet Mom and Dad thought it was interesting when you told them.”

Roxy had inherited her love of history from her parents and always shared her latest discoveries with them. Her mother, Michele, was a high school history teacher. Born Michele Tyrrell, she was a distant relative of Joseph Tyrrell. He’d discovered dinosaur bones in the area back in 1884, and the Tyrrell Museum was named after him. The twins’ father, Doug, was an expert on the traditions of the RCMP. He also took pride in being the great-grandson of Sam Drumheller, for whom the town of Drumheller was named.

Dad in his office with the twins.

Ray looked thoughtful. “When you hear stories about the past, it kind of makes you wish—”

A familiar chug-chug interrupted him. The twins’ mother was steering her 1929 blue Ford Model A convertible around the curve of the driveway. On her left shoulder, enjoying the breeze from the half-open driver’s window, perched her adorable pet Big Eyes; he was a partially blind, one-legged great horned owl—the Alberta provincial bird.

“Hey look, they’ve got Uncle Bob with them,” Roxy said. In the passenger seat was the twins’ favourite uncle, who taught high school science and math. “Hi kids!” He shouted out the window and waved as Michele pulled into the garage. Roxy heard the car doors slam and knew that Uncle Bob, Mom, and Big Eyes—still balancing on her shoulder—would be heading through the garage to the kitchen.

“Kind of makes you wish what?” she asked Ray.

He gave her a questioning look.

“You said something about the past and wishing something,” she reminded him.

“Oh, yeah, I was just wondering what would happen if people could actually go back to the past.”

Roxy nodded. “I guess that’s why I read history—it’s kind of like going back.” She gave a little shiver. “Let’s go in—it’s getting chilly out here.”

They were crossing the porch toward the door, Jasper trailing behind them, when Roxy stopped short and turned to Ray.

“What?” he said.

“I don’t know exactly. Just for a second I had this funny feeling like the past is closer than we think.”

Ray shook his head. “You’ve been reading too much.” He gave her a little push. “Come on, let’s find out what cool thing Uncle Bob is up to.”