by D. R. Graham
I smiled at her innocence. “I told your dad you were a good girl. He’ll be happy to know it’s true.”
“He told me you said that.”
“It obviously didn’t help. He still made you withdraw from the competition.”
“That was because we lied to him.”
“Your mom knew you were there. She should have just told him she gave you permission.”
“The deal was that she would let us go by ourselves, but if Dad found out, we weren’t allowed to tell him she knew. It would have been a win-win if he hadn’t somehow found out. Ahem.”
I chuckled at her not so subtle accusation. “You shouldn’t lie. It always comes back to bite you in the butt.”
“I guess you would know.”
“I’m not a liar.”
“No? I heard you tell your mom you weren’t chewing tobacco when you were.”
“White lies don’t count.”
“Yes, they do. Hold on a second.” It sounded as if she was stretching to do something before she said, “You know, retiring from bull riding is no guarantee that you won’t be anything like your dad. If you really want to be a better man it’s going to take more than that.”
“Yeah? You’ve got me all figured out?” I reached over and turned off the lamp next to my bed. “Did you also figure out how my brother got himself onto the roof of the hotel and why he was pole dancing in his birthday suit?”
“No. That’s a mystery. It must have been so embarrassing.”
“Cole doesn’t care about stuff like that when he’s doing it.”
“I meant embarrassing for you.”
“Oh, is that why you really called, because you feel sorry for me?”
“Pretty much. I mean, not that I think you should be embarrassed or anything. It’s not like it was your fault, but if it were Lee-Anne up there doing some naked pole dancing and I had to tackle her to the ground, I would die.”
The visual of that made me grin. “If it were you and Lee-Anne wrestling around, it wouldn’t have been embarrassing. It would have been hot. The police would have just let you go at it.”
“Jesus. Don’t let my dad hear you talking like that.”
I laughed. “I’m just saying; people would have paid money to see it.”
“I’m pretty sure people would have also paid money to see you wrestling around with Cole’s bare ass hanging out.”
“Yeah, it must have been quite the sight. I wonder if it’s on YouTube.”
“I thought people knowing about what happened with Blake and me was embarrassing, but what happened to you is way worse.” Her tone wasn’t joking anymore. She was genuinely sympathetic. “No offence.”
“I don’t care about the embarrassment. I just worry about him.” I pulled the blanket up over my shoulder and closed my eyes, surprised that I was about to talk seriously about it with her. “If I hadn’t been there they definitely would have arrested him, and they might have even shot him. He was really out of control.”
“You can’t always be there. Even if you are there, something could still happen to him. He’s not your responsibility and it won’t be your fault.”
I exhaled slowly and felt my real feelings surface. “I’ll feel like it’s my fault and if I don’t do it, no one else will.”
She seemed to sense that I had opened up in a way that rarely happened, and her voice became even more gentle and sensitive. “Were you scared of him?”
“No, just concerned he’d hurt someone else and I wouldn’t be able to stop it.”
“Well, there’s nothing more you could do for him that you don’t already do. It’s up to Cole to take care of Cole.”
I reached up and rubbed my forehead because all the honesty was giving me a headache. That was as much opening up as I was capable of. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure,” she said without hesitation. “Who’s your favourite singer?”
Relieved that she understood me well enough not to push things, I smiled and answered, “Bruce Springsteen.”
“Shut up. Are you seventy years old?”
“His music is timeless.”
“Old,” she teased.
“Timeless.”
“What’s your favourite meal including dessert?” she asked as if she was reading it off a card.
“Shepherd’s pie and apple crisp. What are your favourites?”
“Carrie Underwood, lasagne, and Key Lime pie.”
I laughed.
“What? Those are all good.”
“I’m not laughing at that, although Carrie Underwood is a joke. I’m laughing because I just heard a noise outside that would have made you pee your nightie, or whatever you sleep in.”
“Ooh. It’s probably a murderer who’s going to break in and chop you up with an axe. By the way, I can’t believe you just sass mouthed Carrie. And, I sleep in a tank top and boxer shorts, not a nightie. Who sleeps in a nightie, Bruce Springsteen lovers?”
“One of those loose tank tops that guys wear, or a tight, stretchy one that girls wear?” I asked, distracted by the image of both.
“What difference does it make?”
“I was just wondering.” I decided on the tight, stretchy one.
“What are you wearing?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar,” she said, but her tone made it seem like she was considering the possibility that I told the truth.
“I swear.”
“Well, your axe murderer is going to be in for quite a surprise.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s just some racoons getting into the garbage.”
“Maybe you should go outside and scare those coons off.”
“I can’t. I’m busy talking to a pretty girl about her sexy nightwear and questionable taste in music.”
She was completely silent on the other end of the line. I couldn’t even hear her breathing.
“Are you still there?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“What’s wrong? Are you falling asleep?”
“No.” It sounded as if she sat up in bed. “Um, I should probably let you go, so you can get some sleep.”
“No way. You owe me an all night call.”
“Oh.” She seemed surprised that I wasn’t going to let her off the hook. “Are you admitting that you’re upset?”
I smiled when I realized I was willing to admit it to her if it meant she would stay on the phone with me. “Maybe a little bit.”
“All right hold on.” It sounded as if she threw the phone on the bed. Then the sheets rustled and her feet pattered across the floor. A door squeaked and a few seconds passed before she came back on the line. “Pink or blue?”
“Pink or blue what?”
“Nail polish. If we’re going to be up all night, I might as well do my nails.”
“Pink. I like it when girls have pink nails with white tips.”
“That’s a French manicure.”
“Do that one.”
“All right.”
We talked until the sun came up and I never got tired. I just felt relaxed. She sounded relaxed too. I stretched and looked out the window. “Do you have a job you need to go to?”
She yawned. “Yeah, I have to be there at eight-thirty.”
“What do you do?”
“I work at a daycare.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yeah. It’s fun and they schedule my shifts around my rodeo events.”
“Where are you competing next?”
She checked the schedule. “Leduc.”
“All right. I’ll see you in a week.”
“You’re going? You think Cole is going to be well enough by then?”
“No. He can’t ride, but I still need to go so I can pay Ron Miller for Stella and deliver Cole’s camper to Mutt. He lost it in a poker hand.”
“Mutt shouldn’t take it. It’s a bit unethical to take a bet like that from someone who has a mental illness.”
“That bet had nothing to do with
his mental illness. It had to do with his stupidity.” I sat up on the edge of my bed and rested my elbows on my knees. “Thanks for talking to me all night.”
She stole my line and said, “Don’t mention it.”
It sounded cute. “Have a good day, Shae-Lynn.”
“Yeah, you too, Billy Ray. Bye.”
Chapter 10
It was just over a six-hour drive to Leduc from Saskatoon. I left earlier than I needed to because I wanted to be gone before my mom came home with Cole. I was worried he would get all upset that I was taking the camper to Mutt. I only had half the money I needed for Stella, so I borrowed the rest from my dad’s insurance settlement and transferred it into my bank account to cover the cheque I wrote for Ron Miller.
I arrived on Thursday just before five o’clock and parked in the competitors’ area next to Mutt’s truck. By the time I got out of the cab, he was already giving the camper the once over. “Hey, Billy. She’s a beaut.”
“Yeah, she was good while she lasted.” I unhitched it and handed over the keys. “Take care of her.” I looked at the camper one last time. It wasn’t a good feeling to hand over something worth twenty thousand dollars. It made me want to puke actually. I tipped my hat, then walked out to the back pens looking for Ron. He was sitting on the top rail of a fence, reading through some documents. “Hey.”
“Hey, how’s your brother?”
“They discharged him from the hospital today. He’s probably home by now.”
“Do you think he’ll ride again this season?”
“I doubt it.” I pulled the cheque out of my shirt pocket. “Here’s your money.”
He took it and folded it into his wallet. “She’s doing good, eh?”
“Yeah.”
“You should let Shae ride her. Tawnie’s not good enough to really show buyers what Stella’s capable of.”
“Yeah, I’ll think about it. So, we’re square?”
“I’ll have my lawyer send over some papers for you to sign, but we’re square.”
“All right, see you around.” I started to walk away.
“Billy.”
I turned to face him.
He took his hat off and scratched his head. “Um, I’m not sure if it’s really my place to mention this, but Cole owes some people quite a bit of money.”
“I know. I just gave Mutt the camper. We’re square.”
“He also owes Tyson’s Uncle Lyle.”
“For what?”
“Lyle runs some illegal betting on the side. The rumour is that Cole’s been getting in deeper over the past couple weeks.”
“How deep?”
“Twenty, maybe thirty thousand and the juice is running.”
“Jesus Christ.” I took my hat off and paced back and forth. The nauseous feeling returned. “What happens if they can’t collect?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know, but it’s probably not good.”
“I can’t believe Tyson didn’t tell me.”
“I don’t think he knows. Blake does though. He’s the one who got Cole into it.”
I shook my head and patted my pockets hoping that a pack of gum or better yet, chew, would materialize.
“We’re sponsoring a special event at the stock show this year. All the rankest bulls. One hundred thousand dollars goes to the last man standing in each category. If Cole can’t ride, you could.”
“I’m retired.” I turned and kept walking. “Thanks for the heads up on Lyle.”
“Think about riding. You don’t want to owe the wrong people,” he hollered.
Tyson didn’t return my text, so I wandered around looking for either him or Blake. I was just exiting the arena when Tawnie saw me. She walked over with her hands shoved in her back pockets. “So, are we going to repeat this every time?”
“Sorry I haven’t called. I’ve got some serious issues that I’m trying to deal with. My mom needs me to help her, and with work, and taking care of my brother’s shit, I don’t have time to make a long distance relationship work.”
“Why didn’t you just call me and say that? I would have understood.”
“Sorry.” I hung my head and looked down at my boots because I really didn’t want to talk to her.
She stepped closer and I felt her arms slide around my neck. “Maybe I could help, or if you just want to talk, I’m a good listener.”
I stood there for a long time just feeling the rise of her body as she breathed. Eventually, I said, “I’m sorry, Tawnie. You seem like a really nice girl, but I can’t do this.” Then I walked away.
“Billy.”
I kept walking.
Tyson and Blake weren’t anywhere on the grounds, so I got in my truck and drove to the hotel that most of the competitors were staying in. The girl behind the lobby desk looked at my belt buckle and smiled. “Welcome. How may I help you?”
“Could you please tell me which room Tyson and Blake Wiese are staying in?”
“I can’t tell you the room number, but if they’re staying here I can call the room for you.” She moved the mouse on the computer and typed something on the keyboard. She scrolled through a list then shook her head. “They must not be staying here.”
“All right. Thanks.”
“Do you need a room?”
“Yeah, I guess I do.” I pulled out my wallet. “Just one night.” While she was typing on the computer, I texted Tyson again to ask where they were staying.
She slid the key card across the counter. “I get off at eight if you’ve got no plans.”
I glanced at her. She was good looking even in the unflattering beige uniform she was wearing. “Uh, I’ve got some business I need to take care of. Thanks anyway.”
She smiled and wrote her name and number on the back of one of the hotel business cards. “If you change your mind, we’re all going to a bar called The River.”
I tucked it into my shirt pocket and took the stairs to my room.
I waited around in my room until ten o’clock, then caught a cab to The River. If Tyson and Blake were in town, they’d be at the bar. It was really busy and the first person I recognized was the girl from the hotel. She was dancing with a group of girls on the dance floor. I didn’t want her to see me, so I stood at the far side of the bar and ordered a drink.
There was no sign of Tyson or Blake, but a champion bronc rider named Nate Nashlund stepped up to the bar to order a round of six drinks. “Hey Billy, I didn’t see you hiding there. How the hell are you?”
I shrugged. “Been better.”
“Sorry to hear that. Are you riding this weekend?”
“No. How about you?”
“Yup. First one back in a while. It’ll be my last though.”
“Why? Are you retiring?”
“Yeah, I’m opening up my own veterinary clinic in Calgary. I won’t have time for rodeo.”
“Congratulations. Seems like not that long ago when you found out you got accepted to vet school.”
“Yeah, life’s crazy fast. I graduated, bought a house, and signed the lease on the clinic all in the same month. Now I just need to find myself a nice girl and I’ll be set. Speaking of which, I’ve got my eye on one right now, so I should get back to the table. Do you want to join us?”
“No thanks. I’m trying to track down the Wiese boys. You haven’t seen either of them, have you?”
“No, not tonight. Nice seeing you, Billy. Take care.” His hands were big enough to wrap around three glasses each. He squeezed them together and picked up all six drinks. It was impressive.
“Yeah, you take care too. Good luck with everything.”
As he disappeared into the crowd, Tawnie stepped up beside me. She looked at me with one eye open and the other one drooping. “Hey,” she said. She had to steady herself by leaning her elbow on the bar. “Who was that? He’s dreamy.”
“Nate Nashlund.”
“Oh, my God, really? I heard he’s the perfect man — smart, brawny, funny, romantic, rich.�
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“Yeah, he’s perfect. How much have you had to drink?”
“Just a little bit,” she slurred and held her fingers up to indicate a tiny amount.
“You need to ride tomorrow. Maybe you should shut it down for tonight.”
“Maybe you should mind your own business. I’m celebrating.”
“Yeah? What are you celebrating?”
“I’m single. The guy I wanted to date doesn’t like me, so I’m going to find myself a different cowboy. Do you want to celebrate my singleness with me? Maybe Nate Nashlund would like some company.” She waved the bartender over. “I’ll have a shot of tequila.” She turned to me. “What do you want to drink?”
“Nothing.”
She pouted. “Don’t be a party pooper.”
I scanned the bar searching for Rochelle, hoping she would come over and take care of Tawnie. I couldn’t see her. The bartender slid Tawnie’s shot across the bar. He didn’t make her pay for it. She glared at me, then threw her head back to drink it. The girl from the hotel stepped up behind Tawnie and leaned her elbows on the bar to shout at the bartender. As he mixed her order, she glanced over and saw me. “Hey,” she said in a sexy way.
I nodded, and Tawnie turned to see who I was saying hello to.
“Who’s that?”
“She works at the hotel.”
“Are you here with her?”
“No.”
“She’s giving you the fuck-me look. Maybe you should offer to give her a ride back to the hotel in your truck.” She reached over and took a sip from my beer before she whispered in my ear, “So you can fuck in your truck like a duck who got hit in the head with a puck because he has no luck and forgot to duck then he fell in the muck like a schmuck.” She laughed at herself. “You suck, Billy.”
“Maybe you should stop drinking before you embarrass yourself.”
“I already embarrassed myself by sleeping with you.” She pointed at my chest and lost her balance a little bit. She turned and said to the hotel girl, “He’s not that good in bed, honey. Don’t waste your time.”
The girl gave Tawnie a you’re pathetic lip curl, grabbed her drinks, and left.
Tawnie turned back towards me and leaned on my shoulder. “I just said that to get rid of her. You’re really good in bed. Really, really good.” She stood on her tiptoes and tried to kiss me.
