One with a happily ever after.
I sat and stared at my words, not understanding why I would even fabricate what was supposed to be an autobiography. As I looked up to just stare around my living room, my eyes caught sight of a book lying on the end table next to the couch. It was one of my aunt’s silly romance novels that she loved to read. Adeline and her mother loved to read them too.
Why did they love to read these things so much when it wasn’t reality?
Curiosity got the best of me and I picked up my aunt’s book and started to read. Before I knew it, I finished the book in three hours and felt something I hadn’t felt in a really long time.
Hope.
I became a ferocious reader - getting my hands on every single romance book I could find, reading books from all the sub-genres within the romance category. By the time I turned twenty, I had read over a thousand books and a new addiction was formed.
Books helped me escape from reality.
Books healed my broken heart.
Books inspired me to be a better person.
Books saved me from going down a dark, negative path of becoming a man-hater.
Books gave me hope that everything is going to be okay.
But what books really gave me was inspiration, because I knew I could write a story just as good as the rest of these published authors could. I got out the journal that I wrote in and edited my history with Ty so that it read like a story, changing our names to create characters, and introducing a new hero who would sweep this girl right off her feet. I then plotted out ten more storylines from people I either personally knew or heard of around town. Every one of my books was going to end in a happily ever after because that is what people deserved to have.
Even my witch-of-an-aunt was going to get her happy ending in fiction.
It was that night that my pen name of T.M. Jocelyn was formed. Jocelyn being my mother’s first name.
My job with the rodeo enabled me to save enough money to move into an apartment with Adeline and buy myself a used car. I was completely free of my aunt now that I had my own place and car. I felt liberated and free and it only motivated me more to one day be my own boss and not work for anyone but myself.
Having a car also enabled me to quit my waitressing job and find a weekend gig in Austin, which was only an hour away. The tips and pay were larger there since it was a bigger city. I decided it was worth the time and money to go to bartending school and two months later, I was hired at one of the many bars that lined 6th Street in Austin. The bar was so busy on the weekends that I made back my tuition money from bartending school within that first month. With my weekends now busy in Austin, my nights during the week were the only available time I had to write.
I poured every ounce of energy I could muster into my first book and on the eve of my 22nd birthday, Adeline and I celebrated hitting the publish button for my first novel. I went to bed that night buzzed from alcohol and the anticipation of seeing how large my sales were going to be when I woke up in the morning.
I woke up to zero sales.
After getting over the shock and disappointment of what I felt was a failure, I realized that I had outrageous expectations for myself. How can I sell books when I don’t have an audience? Yes, I researched how to self-publish my own book, but what I didn’t take the time to imbibe was how to market and advertise myself and my book.
Three years later, I’m proud to say that tonight is the night I will be publishing my tenth book. I really needed those three years to learn the business, make some mistakes, find my presence amongst the book community and gain readers. Adeline and I have plans to celebrate in Austin this weekend, splurging on a hotel for a night to enjoy ourselves. Not only because it’s my tenth book, but because I’m this close to sales on my books finally reaching the same amount of money I bring home from the rodeo every month.
I’m salivating at the vision of handing in my resignation. The plan is once I reach that figure that secures my freedom, Adeline and I will move to Austin permanently. She currently works for her father at his car dealership and fortunately, he has another one twenty minutes from downtown Austin that he said she can transfer to. I’m realistic in the sense that I don’t think this book will push me over the edge to hand in my resignation next week. But I have two more books lined up after this one and if I can keep the momentum up, I should be able to say adios to Bear Creek Rodeo forever.
Distractions in my life right now are non-negotiable.
No partying.
No men.
Nothing!
“Tessa, I’m ready for our meeting,” Mr. George calls out from his office, disrupting me from my thoughts. With the rodeo one month away, Mr. George likes to have daily meetings to go over what we’ve accomplished to make sure we’re ready without any hitches for the big weekend. Considering we’ve been doing this for so long, I find it comical that I’m still being micromanaged. I’ve stopped letting it bother me since a new chapter in my life is about to come to fruition. I owe a lot to Mr. George for taking pity on me that day, which now feels like forever ago. I’ve forgiven Ty for his wrongdoings because if it wasn’t for my experience with him, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
An up and coming successful romance author!
I can’t help the smile that plays on my lips as I walk into Mr. George’s office and sit down. My smile must be extra bright today, because normally Mr. George doesn’t pay much attention to me, but today he does a double take and stares at me.
“I haven’t seen you smile like that for a long time. What’s on that mind of yours? You’ve got a hot date tonight, Tessa?” He raises his eyebrows in question and I can’t help but chuckle at the hope that’s in his eyes. He’s been my boss now for seven years and sometimes I feel he views me as the daughter he never had.
“I don’t need any man to make me smile, sir. So to answer your question, no, I don’t have a hot date tonight. Can’t a girl just be happy?” No one except Adeline knows of my alter ego and I plan to keep it that way. People talk and I don’t need anyone derailing me.
He shakes his head and laughs. “I’m happy to hear that you can make yourself happy, Tessa, but aren’t you interested in anyone? You’re a beautiful, smart, young girl. Don’t you want to settle down soon?”
“Nope,” I say, popping the “p” to emphasize my point.
He leans back in his chair and studies me for a second. “You know you broke Scottie’s heart last week when you told him hell would have to freeze over for you to ever go out on a date with him.”
I tap my finger on my lips and look upward, remembering my version of the story to be quite different then what Mr. George was told. “If I recall correctly, Scottie never formally asked me out on a date. He asked me if I wanted to feel what it’s like for a horse to be ridden by the best bareback bronc rider in Texas.” Mr. George’s mouth drops open in shock, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment and his eyes hardening in disgust.
“That man shouldn’t be allowed to compete. That’s sexual harassment and is unacceptable at my rodeo.” Mr. George reaches for the phone, but I stop him by holding up my hand.
“With all due respect, Mr. George, I don’t want the demise of his career on my conscience. I also don’t want the gossip. As you well know, this town talks, especially if it has to do with one of the cowboys.” He nods in agreements, knowing all too well how this town loves to hear about any gossip concerning the rodeo and the professional cowboys that ride here.
“Next time you have any kind of incident with anyone, I want to hear about it. You understand, Tessa?” I nod my head and return his intense stare so that he knows I hear him loud and clear. “Good, let’s get down to business.”
We go through our master list of things that need to be ready. As usual, we’re sitting pretty with having most of our tasks completed. If the rodeo started tomorrow, we would be in great shape. All that would be missing would be the cowboys since they usually report the day of. If we’re
lucky, they will come the night before and attend our annual carnival and sign autographs. We’re ready to go and the only reason I can think why Mr. George is nervous might be due to the new addition of cowboys that are gracing us with their presence this rodeo season.
The Kearney brothers from Ireland.
I don’t know much about them except for what I’ve read in the media - that they’re taking the rodeo circuit by storm. They’ve already obtained more sponsors than some cowboys could only dream of having. Rodeos are selling out and people are driving all over the state to attend multiple rodeos just to see them. Word on the street is that they’re professional, on time, and show great sportsmanship.
And that they’re more handsome than any other cowboy in the history of the PRCA.
Ty is still the best looking cowboy I’ve ever seen here in Bear Creek, but that isn’t saying much. I’ve never been to the National Finals in Las Vegas, so I find it hard to believe that the gossip of the Kearney brothers being the hottest cowboys ever could be true. They’re listed as single and according to Adeline, no girlfriends have been reported or spotted at any of the rodeos they’ve competed in so far.
Not that I care about any of this gossip. Whether they’re good-looking or not won’t phase me since I have no plans on shacking up with a professional cowboy ever again.
“I think we need to beef up security for the Kearney boys. One of the other general managers from another rodeo sent out an email saying they had a hard time controlling the pack of ladies who tried following them to the dressing room.”
I roll my eyes at this news, not understanding why some women are so desperate. I jot down to hire more officers on my task list for tomorrow.
“I’ll order more officers, but I feel we’re prepared for them just like we are prepared for all the other cowboys who compete in Bear Creek Rodeo,” I say, not wanting my boss to put these guys on a pedestal. We don’t want to be accused of having favorites and catering to some cowboys more than others.
“With the way they’re performing, Tessa, I think we’re going to see history in the making. Try to reach out to their team to see if we can persuade them to come early. I want them to be at our press conference with the rest of the cowboys, as well as signing autographs at the carnival. We’re blessed to be sold out again and we still have some standing room only tickets left. What do you think of the idea of maybe getting a big screen and doing a watch party outside the arena for those who didn’t get a ticket before we sold out?”
“I think it’s a great idea,” I say with fake enthusiasm, knowing full well that my opinion won’t matter to Mr. George. He’s going to do it no matter what I think.
“Excellent. Order a screen and lets schedule a meeting with ground operations to get this in motion. Once we figure out logistics, let’s announce our plan to the media.”
I nod my head in agreement and inwardly groan at the fact that Mr. George already plans on making a big deal of the Kearney brothers being in Bear Creek, which means extra work for me.
Please let this be my final rodeo, I silently pray.
I’m done catering to these entitled cowboys.
Chapter Three
RHETT
“Can we please stop for dinner soon? I’m starving!” Ryan whines as I drive us down Highway 35 in Texas to our next destination. The road life that comes with the territory of being a professional cowboy is starting to take its toll. It’s been seven months now since we left Ireland for America and most of the time, I can’t even remember what state I’m in. The schedule here in America is much more grueling than in Australia. We travel to another new rodeo almost every other day with no rest in between. If we aren’t driving, then we’re flying, but flying is expensive, so most of the time we’re renting cars. We’re the rookies of the circuit, so Ryan and I agreed to go hardcore and try to hit up every rodeo that qualifies us for Nationals. Now I question whether that was a wise decision. We’re running on fumes, which affects our concentration and how we perform. I can’t wait for the break before Finals. The light is at the end of the tunnel as we have one more month left, but if we do this again next year, we must do things differently.
“We have only thirty minutes left until we reach the hotel. Can you wait or are you going to pass out on me like a sissy?” I look in my rearview mirror at Ryan, who decided to take a nap in the back seat.
“Fine,” he grumbles, not liking the idea of having to wait. “We need to strategize this better for next year. I’m bloody tired.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” I smile while glancing back at him. There’s no way we can sustain this type of schedule and dominate the pro rodeo circuit. “Let’s talk more at dinner about how we’re going to maximize our winnings by which rodeos we choose and how to minimize our traveling expenses for next year.” Thank goodness we secured some sponsors as their sponsorship money helps pay for our travel. Taking that year off to take care of the farm also helped us save money since our experiences in Australia and Spain were similar and we had somewhat of an idea of what to expect.
“Hey, are we near Austin?” Ryan asks as we pass a sign on the highway that says we’re ten miles away from it. “Cody just sent me a text saying they’re eating dinner downtown and that if we’re close, we should join them. Can we? We’ve been snotty pricks by not socializing with anyone so far.”
We’ve kept to ourselves this tour simply because we don’t know who to trust. We’ve heard plenty of stories of who the assholes of the circuit are, but I like to be my own judge of character. We’ve noticed the cliques and with us being fresh meat, some of the other cowboys haven’t been so welcoming. Cody Burr took it upon himself to try to help us anytime we’re at the same rodeo together. It would be nice to have a beer with him, buy his dinner as a thank you, and pick his brain on what we should do for next year.
“You’re right, we should stop and take him up on his offer. Find out where he is so we can put it into the navigation.”
Thirty minutes later we’re walking into a restaurant on 6th Street. The restaurant is packed, but Cody and his friends stick out with their cowboy hats on. Ryan and I never wear our hats outside the rodeo. Even though Ryan is the louder and more obnoxious one out of the two of us, we both agree that we don’t like to draw attention to ourselves. We make our way through the crowd to the bar where Cody and his crew are sitting.
“Holy crap, I didn’t recognize you two. You look like total hipsters instead of cowboys. Where’s your hats?” Cody yells as soon as he turns around after I tap him on his shoulder. He’s with three other cowboys from the circuit - Tate Reynolds, Luke Reno, and Casey Jennings. All three men are a force on the circuit and have been respectful to Ryan and me every time we compete with them.
“We don’t wear our hats when we aren’t competing,” Ryan responds while shaking hands with the other guys.
“Well, you should. The ladies here love them some cowboys,” Casey says as he tips his hat down to salute a pretty redhead that passes us by. She gives him a sly smile in return while continuing to her table. “See what I mean?” he laughs and signals for the bartender. We place our order and while we wait for our drinks, I decide to look around.
The restaurant’s decor is a mixture of country farmhouse meets rustic industrial with a few crystal chandeliers to glam it up. The Friday night crowd is lively and I imagine it’s probably like this every weekend. My eyes slowly travel over the tables in front of us, casually roaming until I do a double take at the sight of a beautiful brunette.
Her smile is mesmerizing as she laughs at something her friend is saying. It’s the type of smile that you automatically smile back at, even if she isn’t looking at you. It’s genuine, with her skin crinkling at the side of her eyes that are shining brightly from happiness. As I watch her more closely, I can actually hear her whimsical laughter.
And I want to hear more of it.
A glass of Guinness is slapped into my chest, shaking me out of my thoughts and causing me
to look away. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been interested in someone, so maybe that’s why I’m reacting so strongly to this stranger. No doubt she’s gorgeous, but so are other women in this place. I continue to people watch, but can’t stop my gaze from going straight back to her.
She’s listening intently to whatever her friend is saying, her smile fading into a look of disbelief. Her friend, who’s a cute, petite blonde with long hair, is talking rapidly, her voice getting louder and louder with excitement over whatever she is looking at on her phone. She shoves her phone into the brunette’s face, who looks at it in shock. Her blonde friend starts banging on their table with both of her hands, her voice getting loud enough for me to understand what she’s saying.
“You have a freaking orange flag!” she yells out and then screams in delight. The brunette quickly looks up from her phone, telling her friend to be quiet. She looks around and apologizes to the people at the table next to them for her friend’s loudness.
What in the hell is an orange flag for?
“Rhett! Are you listening to us?” Ryan’s voice brings my attention back to him, but only for half a second as I try to acknowledge him while still keeping my eyes on her.
“Clearly someone else has his attention. Who are you looking at?” All four of them follow my line of vision and for a second, I wish they hadn’t just seen my diamond in the rough.
“Tate, doesn’t the brunette look familiar?” Cody asks out loud and my heart starts to sink at the thought that one of them has dated her already. I have a strict rule to not be with anyone who has dated someone I know. This rule is non-negotiable and fortunately, I’ve never been in a position to even consider breaking it.
“She does look familiar. I bet she’s a buckle bunny.” Buckle bunny is code for groupie. Disappointment starts to fill me, hoping they’re wrong. She hasn’t looked our way once. If she was a rodeo groupie, wouldn’t she try hanging out with us?
Why does this even matter, Rhett? You can’t commit to anyone right now anyway, plus this girl could be a psychopath!
The Irish Cowboy: Bear Creek Rodeo Page 2
