The Long Paddock, page 24
‘You will.’ An unexpected seriousness sobered his expression.
She nodded and turned. A teenage girl approached leading two bay quarter horses. Cressy stopped to let them pass. Up ahead, a small boy ran towards the pair of horses, trailing a yellow helium balloon that bobbed up and down in the wind. At first Cressy thought the horses wouldn’t spook and then suddenly the bay on the left shied. The teenager struggled to hold onto the mare as she surged sideways. The remaining bay pulled back, wrenching the lead from the girl’s hand.
Concerned for the small boy, who’d stopped and stared at the frightened horses, Cressy moved forward. She couldn’t tell yet if the loose horse would stay near its companion or bolt. The scared horse gave in to its instinct to flee and spun around. Too late Cressy realised she was in the direct path of its flight. Before she could move, Denham’s arm encircled her waist and dragged her backwards. The horse thundered past, scattering dirt over her boots and jeans.
Held firm against Denham, she could only watch as the girl hung onto the lead rope to stop the mare from following the gelding. A cowboy raced to her side and helped to steady the agitated bay. Cressy glanced to her right. Over near the horse float and truck parking area two men had caught the runaway gelding. She released the tight hold she’d taken on Denham’s forearm where it lay across her midriff. The crisis was over. Both horses were secure and safe and the small boy uninjured. A young mother rushed out of the stands to scoop him up. She mouthed words of apology before carrying the child and his balloon away.
Against her back, Cressy could feel Denham’s muscles unlock. The rise and fall of his chest slowed. His chin eased away from her hair and his arm relaxed around her waist. But he didn’t let her go.
When he’d held her after Reggie’s dramas he’d provided a safe and secure haven for her to regain her composure. She’d been conscious of his compassion and his gentleness. Now all she could focus on was his sheer physical strength, his heat and how perfect it felt to have him wrapped around her. She curled her nails into her palms to stop herself from spinning, pressing herself against him and sliding her fingers in his hair.
He must have felt her tense because his arm lowered and he stepped away. She turned, but he’d bent to collect her cap from off the ground before she could examine his face. As he straightened, she caught an almost imperceptible wince.
‘Denham?’ She stepped forward. ‘Are you okay?’
He dusted off her cap. ‘Never better. How are you?’
She accepted her cap without looking away from his face. His eyes were too dark.
‘All good. Thanks. Did I elbow you?’
‘Not that I know of. Now I’d best get going otherwise there’ll be no bull-riding demo.’
She tracked him as he jogged in the direction of where his ute and horse float were parked. When she could no longer see him, she retraced her steps to the ticket box, rubbing a tender spot on her elbow.
This time there was no line waiting to buy entry tickets. She paid her money and slipped on her blue wristband. She then wove her way through the retail shops selling everything from boots to horse gear to belts studded with dazzling rodeo bling. The aroma of hot chips wafted on the breeze. Through a gap in the crowd she glimpsed the Higgins’ twins over near the food outlets licking rainbow ice-creams. Milo, their Jack Russell puppy, had grown into a chubby bundle of cuteness and he sat in front of them watching every mouthful they took. The way the day’s temperature climbed she and Ella would soon also make a beeline for the ice-cream stand.
Cressy spied an empty row of seats at the top of the stand past the mechanical bull and she headed over. Already a row of mini-cowgirls and cowboys waited for their ride on the fake bull. She’d only ever ridden the bull once and hadn’t lasted two seconds. Even as a kid Denham had showed his natural ability and determination. Every year he’d take multiple rides on the mechanical bull until he’d lasted eight seconds.
Apologising as she climbed over legs and bags, she made her way to the vacant stand seats. She adjusted her cap to blank out the bright sunlight. Wherever the clouds were they weren’t delivering shade to the rodeo ground. She texted Ella and settled back to look over to where the Australian flag flapped high above the bucking chutes. A cluster of cowboys congregated around the middle chute. Her nerves tightened. It would soon be time for Denham’s demonstration.
She looked back towards the main gate for a glimpse of Ella. A steady stream of spectators continued to arrive. Amongst the influx were many out-of-towners and she found herself scanning the female faces. Could one of the strangers be the mystery woman from Denham’s phone call? Their conversation had mentioned the rodeo weekend.
Ella appeared dressed in her blue cowgirl shirt and jeans, walking alongside Shaun. Cressy leaned over the side of the stands and waved. Ella smiled, waved back and soon clambered up the stands to the top row.
‘Great spot,’ she said, settling herself onto the steel bench. ‘Even though every year I seem to forget how uncomfortable these grandstand seats are.’
‘You need to spend a week at Meredith’s. After a week of her baking I guarantee you’ll have extra padding to sit on.’
‘Who needs more padding?’ Shaun asked as he sat in the seat beside Ella, his hands full with a large bucket of hot chips.
Cressy grinned. ‘You won’t by the looks of your morning smoko.’
He offered Ella and Cressy the chip bucket.
‘Didn’t I also see you with a meat pie earlier?’ Ella said, taking a long chip.
‘A man’s got to eat.’
Cressy also took a salty chip. This was a Shaun she’d never seen. His chin was blurred with stubble, his boots dusty and his cherry-red shirt crushed. He wore a rodeo cap instead of his usual cream and spotless felt hat. But instead of looking ill at ease, he looked relaxed and fitted in with the other jean-and-boot-wearing men in the crowd.
When he caught her examining him, he gave her a half-smile.
At the corner of their stand a slim brunette stopped, her forehead knitted in uncertainty as she searched for a seat. Ella stood and waved.
‘Brooke … there’s room up here.’
The girl nodded, relief in her pretty smile. Shaun stared, a chip halfway to his mouth.
Ella sat down. ‘Brooke’s the new vet nurse and I said I’d keep a watchout for her.’
Brooke climbed through the crowd and slid into the room Shaun had left between him and Ella.
Ella had only just made the introductions and Shaun offered Brooke a chip when the rodeo clown ran into the arena to the music of rawhide. Cracking jokes and making the crowd laugh, the clown used a broom to prop up a stuffed effigy of a cowboy. Cressy moved forward in her seat and stared at the middle chute. The clown was just being careful setting up the decoy to distract any aggressive bulls. Surely Denham’s bull wouldn’t possess such fire and fury?
From within the chute the sound of steel being kicked reverberated around the arena. Nerves twisted in Cressy’s stomach. This was no sleepy or pedestrian bull. The bull rattled the chute again as he lunged upwards. The crowd hushed. Cressy tightened her grip on the edge of her seat.
‘He’ll be okay,’ Shaun said, leaning forward to speak to her, gaze serious. ‘He’s done this hundreds of times.’
Ella shot Shaun an open look of surprise.
Cressy nodded, appreciating Shaun’s reassurance. ‘I hope so.’
She looked back at the chute. Denham was now settled on top of the uncooperative bull. To her dismay he wore his usual cowboy hat and not a helmet. He sat still while they wrapped his hand within the bullrope to secure him to the 2000-pound animal beneath him.
The rodeo announcer spoke and the crowd quietened further.
‘Let’s give it up for our world-champion bull rider, Denham Rigby, riding Buckshot. Ladies and gentlemen we’re in for a treat. Buckshot hasn’t been ridden all season. Let’s watch as Denham shows us how it’s done.’
A huge cheer swelled and then faded to be replaced by silent expectation.
Denham’s free hand went up and then he nodded. The cowboy outside the chute opened the steel gate and the brindle bull exploded into the open space. Cressy’s shoulders tensed.
How could anyone ride something that bucked, kicked, spun and jolted the very air out of anyone’s lungs? But showing the courage, expertise and coordination that had made him the best of the best Denham remained on top of Buckshot. No matter which way the bull twisted or pivoted, Denham kept his balance. When the buzzer went saying he’d made the eight seconds Cressy didn’t relax. Denham still had to get off the bull.
He tugged at the bullrope around his hand and as it fell away he jumped off. Knees bent he landed on his feet and easily stood. Behind him the bull tossed its head at the rodeo clown before jogging along the fence and through the open gate at the end of the chutes that would return him to the other bulls. It was only as Denham lifted his hat and waved to the crowd she saw him briefly press his hand to his left side.
***
‘I know you don’t like it when I’m hurt but it’s just a twinge,’ Denham said to Bandit as the horse used his head to push him. ‘And pushing me doesn’t help.’
The gelding nibbled at the brim of his cap.
‘That’s more like it. Mind your manners.’ Denham smoothed his hand over the buckskin’s neck. ‘Just remember this conversation when we’re pickup riding this afternoon.’
Having checked Bandit hadn’t done his usual trick of tipping over his water bucket, Denham headed for his ute. Now his bull-riding demonstration was over, he’d get out of his leather chaps and protective vest. It was a long walk through the gooseneck horse floats and trucks. He’d made sure he’d parked on the fringe of the vehicles, with only the tree-lined bank of the Bell River behind him. He didn’t plan to sleep in his swag and listen to cowboys snore all night.
He opened the ute door before stripping off his chaps. He grimaced as he removed his vest. He hadn’t wanted Cressy to worry but the point of her elbow had jabbed the ribs he’d broken before he’d returned home. It was no big deal. He’d dealt with far worse pain. He tossed the vest and chaps onto the passenger seat and picked up his phone as Fliss’s name lit up the screen.
‘Hi, Dr Fliss, sorry to disappoint you but there’s nothing to report. I’ve done my bull-riding demo and I’m still in one piece.’
‘You’d better be. I’ve already spoken to Cressy and she said you didn’t have the quietest of bulls. You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?’
‘No comment.’
When he’d heard no cowboy had ridden Buckshot this season, he’d made sure it was the rank bull in the chute. He had a responsibility to the committee to give the best bull-riding demonstration he could. Phil had given him a long look before organising the change from a quieter bull to Buckshot.
‘I might have known. At least pickup riding will be safer this afternoon. Have fun.’
‘Will do.’ He paused. ‘And Fliss, you know the other thing we talked about?’
‘The Cressy thing?’
‘Yeah, well … you’re right. I need to finish what I started.’
‘I’m so glad.’ A smile infused Fliss’s words. ‘I’d wish you good luck but you won’t need it.’
‘I’m not so sure about that.’
Fliss chuckled. ‘For a man who rides a bull no-one else can, you don’t sound very confident.’
‘I’m not. When it comes to Cressy, the stakes couldn’t be higher.’
‘I know.’ Fliss’s tone sobered. ‘But everything will work out. You’ll see. There aren’t two people who were meant to be together more than you and my little sister.’
Fliss’s words stayed with him as he made his way back to the rodeo arena. He wished he shared her optimism. But after he’d walked away from Cressy three years ago and kept her at arm’s length since returning home, Cressy had every right to not want anything to do with him. Sure, she’d kissed him, but as she’d explained, it was only natural with their history that attraction flared between them. As for the friendship that again linked them, perhaps that was all she was prepared to give? And if it was, he’d respect her decision and honour his original vow to never cause her fresh hurt. He rolled his shoulders that were locked tight and ignored the dull ache at his side.
A masculine voice called his name and he turned to see Seth sitting in a camp chair in the shade of his gooseneck trailer. He changed direction to head over to the professional pickup rider. He and Seth had been mates on the local rodeo circuit before Denham had left. Seth had been a gun bareback rider until a head injury had ended his career. He switched to plucking cowboys off the back of a bucking horse instead of being the one diving into the dust.
‘All set for this afternoon?’ Seth said, standing to shake Denham’s hand.
‘Yes. Thanks for asking me to help out.’
‘No problem.’ Seth grinned, his grey eyes warm. ‘Here, take a seat.’ The cowboy set up another camp chair for Denham to use.
Denham sank into the khaki canvas.
Seth rubbed at his shoulder as he took his time to again sit. ‘There has to be a storm coming. Thanks to your buckskin devil, I always know when it’s going to rain.’
Denham nodded. In Bandit’s last rodeo, he’d thrown Seth and broken his shoulder. As usual, Bandit had refused to cooperate with the pickup riders. When one had thrown a sneaky punch at his head, Bandit had knocked him from his saddle. While the man lay on the ground, Bandit had reared above him. Denham had witnessed the whole thing. He’d never known a horse with such spirit and had made a point of seeing his ride each rodeo. His gut had told him the gelding wouldn’t have hurt the prone man, he’d just been asserting his authority.
Instead of Bandit being sent to the knackery, Denham had bought him. It hadn’t been easy winning the strong-willed buckskin’s trust but the bond they’d forged was worth every kick and fall.
‘Believe it or not, he’s mellowed.’
Seth laughed. ‘That will be the day. He’s still a badass. He was eyeballing some poor small white pony being led past the stables.’
Denham shook his head. ‘There’s a reason why I put him in the end stable.’
‘Which is the same reason why he’ll make an excellent pickup horse. He’s quick on his feet and won’t back down when things get hairy out there, which they can do fast. I’ve no doubt he’s going to love being in the middle of the action again.’ Seth paused, his expression speculative. ‘You never know, you might too? It can be tough letting go of the rodeo life. There’s not many jobs out there that give the same adrenaline rush.’
Denham grinned. ‘You offering me a job?’
‘I am. I’ll need a new pickup partner next season. I know you’re planning to breed rodeo bulls but if you ever need some arena action just give me a call.’
‘I just might do that.’
His rodeo bull plans and Claremont would keep him busy but if things didn’t work out with Cressy by the next rodeo season he could be in need of a distraction. Especially if Shaun was back in Cressy’s life.
Denham came to his feet. ‘I’d best check Bandit hasn’t given any more kids’ ponies nightmares. I’ll see you in the warm-up area before the buckjumping.’
When Denham visited Bandit he found him dozing in the corner of the stables. He left him in peace and texted Cressy to see if she wanted to see Tanner in the campdraft. She replied straightaway she’d meet him there. He made his way through the throng already congregated outside the bar. Tonight at the dinner the country music thrumming from the makeshift stage would further draw the crowds.
Once past the bar, he walked alongside the horse warm-up area to the campdraft arena. Over by the competitor entry gate Cressy spoke with Tanner. The drover had to be the next one on. A restless Arrow stood behind him. Sweat darkened his golden coat and his nostrils were flared.
Cressy and Tanner turned to smile at him. He didn’t miss Cressy’s quick glance at his left side.
‘How’s Arrow going?’ he asked as the palomino nickered to him softly. He rubbed the mustang’s damp neck, feeling his tension.
‘Let’s just say,’ Tanner said, ‘he’s had better days. He should be right once we’re out in the arena and away from the crowds. How’s Bandit?’
‘Being his usual antisocial self.’
The competitor before Tanner completed the campdraft course and it was Tanner’s turn to compete.
‘Good luck,’ Cressy said with a smile to Tanner and a pat to Arrow before she and Denham headed for the nearby stand. They climbed halfway up and found two spare seats. As she settled beside him her thigh brushed his before she eased herself away.
‘You had a good ride,’ she said, not looking at him.
‘Thanks. Buckshot was a good bull.’
She didn’t make any more comment. He cast her a sideways glance. Despite the seriousness of her expression, she looked more rested than when she’d returned from the long paddock. Today she wore a blue and green floral western shirt he hadn’t seen before. On her feet were the pink boots he’d had handmade for her in Montana. Her thick hair was in a high ponytail and her cap brim was pulled low. His gaze traced her profile. Everything he’d ever wanted was sitting right beside him. Tonight at the dance he’d make sure they found a quiet and secluded corner where they could talk.
She turned and her eyes met his. If she registered the intensity of his stare, she didn’t show it. Instead worry illuminated the green flecks in her irises.
‘I know I elbowed your ribs and they’re sore, so don’t deny it.’
‘You did, and yes, they’re … tender … but it’s not your fault.’ He gave in to the longing to touch her and squeezed her knee. ‘It was an accident.’
She nodded but the worry didn’t fade from her face. ‘I wouldn’t have cracked them again, would I?’
‘No. Trust me, I know what broken ribs feel like and these are a little bruised. It would take more than the jab of your elbow to do any damage.’
Expression unconvinced, she looked forward again as Tanner entered the small yard to select a cow. They stayed silent as the drover and Arrow worked the beast the required number of times to prove they had control, before heading through the gate. The noise from the crowd dulled as they realised they were watching a horse and rider work in perfect harmony to draft the cow around the course.
