Road to Glory (23 page)

****

The first rides were over for all the trainees, with varying degrees of success, and everyone had finished lunch and gathered back by the corral for the second go-round. As Travis finished up his directions and pep talk to the boys, he ended with, “Any questions?”

“Yeah.” Jax’s voice seemed to echo over the paddock. All heads turned toward the speaker. “I’ve got just one.”

The tall cowboy strutted toward the front of the crowd. “I want to know if you’re joining us today, Mr. Hargrove. Perhaps we need to see what a ‘real’ bull rider can do.”

“Shut up, Jax,” Mickey snapped. “You’re here to learn too.”

Jax’s cold glance went from Travis to Mickey. “Yeah, I’m here to learn. I’m here to learn if you’re yellow.”

The crowd of young cowboys all took a step back as Jax Martin faced Travis Hargrove.

No one—
no one
—had ever called him a coward. Travis heard the heavy beat of his heart drowning out the shuffle of Mickey’s boots as he moved to stand between them.

“Get your gear and get out,” Mickey growled at Jax.

“No.” All eyes turned to Travis, his gaze locked on Jax. He wouldn’t turn away, not now. “Mickey, get me a rope and some equipment. I’ll ride as soon as all the boys have had their second go-round.”

“You don’t have to do this, Travis,” Mickey begged.

Jax’s lips lifted in a sneer.

“Oh, yeah, I do. He’s been asking for this ever since we met in the tack store. All right, Jax, you and me. Same scores. Mickey, you judge.”

“Hell, no,” Jax piped up. “I want a fair and impartial judge.”

“Will I do?”

All eyes turned toward a figure at the edge of the chutes. Travis licked his dry lips and looked at Big John Parker. “Yeah, you’ll do.” He glanced back at his challenger. “His word good enough?”

“Yeah.” Jax nodded. “Better make sure your next of kin have been notified.” With that, Jax marched off toward the chutes.

Chapter Seventeen

Glory had made her way over to the grandstand, intent on seeing what was going on between Jax and Angel, but by the time she got there Angel had disappeared. Glory ran the video camera by herself for the morning rides, but what she’d seen between Angel and Jax still bothered her. Something had seemed to be a problem. She had her share of difficulty with Angel, but that didn’t mean she wanted to see her hurt, especially by Jax.

This afternoon the grandstand was full as Glory once again headed toward it and her job with the camera.

Glancing over her shoulder, Glory could see the men clustered together again. Mickey must be doing some powerful talking to keep their interest that focused. Climbing the stairs, she came into view of Angel, who sat, head down, in the bleachers behind the camera setup. Good, she thought. A little help, and maybe I can find out what’s going on.

Head high, Glory made her way to the camera and checked the wires to make sure the hookup was still properly connected. “Have you cut the camera on?” she asked.

Angel gave a tired sigh. “Yeah, it works,” she replied.

Trying to think of some small talk to break the ice, Glory glanced through the view screen and pushed the button to test the focus. The camera zoomed into the chute marked number four. “Wow, this sure is clear,” she said and turned to look in Angel’s direction. She watched as the girl lifted her face. Glory’s heart paused. Angel had been crying. “Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, moving to take a seat beside her on the wooden bleachers.

Mickey’s daughter brushed her cheeks with her hands. “It’s—it’s nothing.”

Glory shook her head, taking in all the signs of Angel’s misery. “I think it must be something,” she replied, pushing a strand of the girl’s long dark hair over her shoulder. “You are obviously upset.”

Angel shrugged.

Glory put both hands on her knees and waited for her to make some remark or join in the conversation. While she waited, she studied the young woman beside her. Angel had always been a unique beauty aside from her long dark hair. She was tall and willowy compared to Glory’s petite stature. Glory had envied her that height. Yet today something really seemed off. Her complexion had a greenish tinge around her mouth, and the glow of her hair was dulled. “Angel, are you all right? You look ill.”

She watched the girl’s gaze dart toward the chutes as she licked her lips. “I-I think I have a bug,” she explained. Her hand moved to her middle. “That’s why I couldn’t stay this morning. My stomach has just not been right.”

Glory placed a comforting hand on her arm. “In this heat, it’s no wonder. Why don’t you go up to the shade?”

Angel glanced at the top of the bleachers, where the back still offered a bit of shade from the unrelenting sun.

“I can handle the camera,” Glory added.

Angel looked back at her, more tears ready to spill from her eyes.

“There’s more to this than a stomach bug, isn’t there.” Glory didn’t make it a question.

Angel nodded.

A knot of dread formed in Glory’s middle. “It involves Jax Martin, doesn’t it.”

“Yes.” Angel’s voice reeked of misery. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell my father. He—he doesn’t like Jax.”

“I won’t tell,” Glory assured her. “You’ve liked him for a long time now, haven’t you?”

One large tear slid down Angel’s cheek. “We’ve been meeting on and off for three years,” she began. “Ever since that night you caught us.”

Glory waited for the pain to set in. To her surprise, today it didn’t. “That’s a long time for a rodeo man.”

Angel tried to smile.

“Did you break up?”

“I don’t know,” Angel replied, drawing her hands together. “I mean, he didn’t say so, not in so many words.”

“Trust me.” Glory took a deep breath. “If Jax wanted to break up with you, he wouldn’t mince words.”

Angel gave a forlorn stare across the ring. “I’m pregnant.”

Glory gasped.

“I told him. I’ve never seen him so mad.” Angel gave a broken sob as tears streamed down her face. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

Without hesitation, Glory engulfed her in her arms. “That’s okay, that’s okay,” she repeated, holding Angel, whose shoulders shook. “You’ve got family. You’ve got me, and Alma, and your dad. You’ll be okay. We’ll see to it.”

It took a few moments for the sobs to subside. Angel raised her head and turned her red-rimmed, watery eyes on Glory. “You know, you were so mad when you caught us. I thought for sure you’d tell Dad. But you just walked away.” Angel sniffed. “Why?”

“I was too hurt to say anything to anybody. But I guess I’ve learned now what love is. I think what I had with Jax wasn’t love. It was more in the vein of being swept away by the idea of being in love. I think we both needed to grow up. I hope he’s done the same. What do you think, Angel?” Glory replied.

She gulped. “I don’t know. I didn’t think he would be thrilled about a baby, but…” Her voice caught. “I didn’t think he’d be so angry. I thought he loved me.”

Glory put her arm around Angel. “I bet he does and doesn’t know it yet. Here.” She fumbled in her pockets and drew out a tissue. “Blow your nose and dry your eyes.”

As she waited, Glory watched a tall figure move toward her. Her brow knotted. She stood up. “That looks like John Parker. He wasn’t to come in until this weekend.” She stood and wiped her hands down her jeans. “Mr. Parker,” she called out over the buzz of the crowd.

“Miss Beebe, if I remember.” John Parker held out his hand.

“Yes. Yes, sir,” she replied as they shook. “I didn’t think you were coming in this soon. I thought Mickey said Saturday.”

“I decided to come in early. I wanted to see this little school Mickey’s been trying to get started. It might be something the rodeo would sponsor. Seeing what’s up, I’m glad I came. You ready with the camera?”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded.

“They’re about ready to start. I want you to catch all the riders on video, okay? Especially the last ones.”

“Sure,” Glory replied and adjusted the lens so she’d be ready.

****

“You’re crazy, you know it?” Mickey snapped as he handed Travis a chest protector. “You got no more business on that bull than a jaybird.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“What? Know you’re crazy?”

Travis paused and gave Mickey a scalding rake of his eyes. “I know what I’m doing. Jax is right. It’s time I showed those kids what a bull rider does.”

“You ain’t ready.” Mickey shook his head. “You haven’t even tried to ride. You could go and get yourself killed.”

Travis put on the metal helmet. “You’ve been after me to do this ever since I got here, and I’ve got news for you.” He thumped Mickey’s chest. “I’m coming out on top.”

“And Glory? You get hurt, and what am I goin’ to say to her?”

He paused and turned to look at Mickey. “I’m not going to get hurt. In fact, when I get done, I plan on telling her I love her.” His face contorted in thought. “I don’t know how we’re going to make it work, but I know when two people are as good together as we are, you don’t look back, you just do it.”

“You sure?”

Travis nodded. “Never been so sure.”

With that he slipped the mouth guard in and pulled the metal mask over his face. Like a prize fighter and his coach, Travis and Mickey moved toward the chutes, where Jax in full riding gear stood at the top of the rail, waiting while the wranglers slipped his rope in. He gave Travis a quick nod and looked back at the bull.

“Hmm. They traded bulls,” Mickey whispered.

Travis glanced at the animal in the chute.

“Jax drew Mitch’s Golden Sun,” Mickey said.

Travis grabbed the bag of rosin and began to apply it liberally to the inside of his legs while Mickey flipped through his book.

“Interesting,” the older cowboy murmured. “One of the wranglers said he likes to twirl. Humph.” He closed the book and stuck it in his back pocket. “Hope he don’t get motion sickness.”

Doing his best not to laugh, Travis handed Mickey the bag and let him dust the seat of his jeans. A sharp kick in the chute drew their attention to the cowboy climbing aboard. A foot on the bottom rail, Travis rose and watched Jax slide both legs around the huge yellow bull. The wrangler on the top rail motioned for him to scoot closer. His spurs rolled across the bar, making the bull shift uneasily.

“Damn fool’s usin’ a suicide twist,” Mickey hissed.

Travis’ eyes widened. “Stop him, Mickey!” But it was too late. Before the older cowboy could say a word, Jax had thrown up his hand and the chute was pulled open. The bull shot out from the confines. The other riders rushed to the rails and climbed up to shout their encouragement. A line of perspiration began to gather on Travis’ upper lip as he watched the bull leap and buck. The smells grew stronger. He felt his gut clench.

Jax was riding well. Arm up high above his head, he raked his spurs along the animal’s sides. Angry, the bull came down on all fours in a bone-jarring snap that shook Jax like a rag doll. Flung forward, he shifted his weight and leaned to the rear just as the bull’s front legs rose.

“Seconds,” Travis called out.

“Six,” Mickey hissed.

One hand gripped the rail tight. His other slid around his middle, where he knew the scar would be. Accompanied by the shouts of the younger riders, the buzzer sounded.

“Get off, get off,” Mickey murmured, joining Travis on the rail.

One of the wranglers on horseback rode out to distract the bull. Moments later, Jax managed to get his rope untied and, as the bull slowed, slipped off with a grunt. Rising slowly from the clay, he moved toward the judge’s platform and tossed his rig over, then climbed up to the top rail.

“Beat that,” he shouted.

Travis reached up and pulled the mouth guard loose. “Plan on it.”

All the months, all the dreams, and it was down to this. Sliding the mouth guard in place, he began to climb up.

“Wait! Don’t you want to know who you’re ridin’?”

Travis looked back at Mickey. “Will it make any difference?”

The cowboy hung his head, shaking it. Travis climbed to the top rail and handed his rig over to the wrangler in charge. Staring down at the massive hump, he recognized the number emblazoned on the animal’s side. Grave Digger, Glory’s big bull. Leaning down, he stared into the eye of the bull, who tried to turn his head to look at him.

“Well, it’s you and me,” Travis whispered and watched the bull’s ears twitch forward as he seemed to be sizing him up. “We’re doing this for Glory.”

“You ready, Mr. Hargrove?”

“Travis,” he reminded the wrangler as he scaled back up and stood over the animal. One last tug on the pair of borrowed gloves and he lifted his leg over the edge. Center yourself. Mickey’s long ago instructions pushed out all other thoughts. With one leg on either side of the chute, he moved forward, looking for the best seat. His clothing seemed to adhere to his body, glued in place by the perspiration that layered his skin. He was nervous. A hand on the top rail, Travis lowered onto the bull.

The animal moved forward and adjusted to his unexpected weight. He ran a hand across Grave Digger’s hide just behind the hump and concentrated on the feel of the muscles beneath his palm. His heart hammered against his ribcage, and he had to fight to breathe. It was all coming back to him now. The roar of the crowd. The scream of the bull. In defiance, he shoved his hand into the leather grip, palm up, and pulled the rope tight against his open hand. He could do this. He wasn’t a quitter. He pulled the rope again, this time balling his fist and pounding it into the pocket of his glove. He was gonna ride this bull.

Everything else faded away. He stared at the space between the animal’s ears as if trying to read its mind. Raising his right hand, he pushed the helmet down on his head and gritted his teeth against the mouth guard as a shudder shimmied through the animal. Travis pulled his legs close to the shoulder and felt his own muscles tighten. Eight seconds. Not long. He took a deep breath. “NOW!”

The gate fell open, and Grave Digger exploded, in a dive, out to the center of the ring, then swirled, whipping Travis around in a tight circle. His eyes remained fixated on the same space as the bull rose and bucked. Travis pulled his arm back and brought it down, careful not to touch the animal in the process. He moved his legs forward, then back, in perfect time with the rocking motion of the bull. With each stomp of the animal’s foot and toss of his head, Travis could feel his own confidence grow.