by Andrew Grey
Carson rolled his eyes. “I meant that you were near the top of the standings and likely to win this whole damned event.” He sighed and motioned toward the back of the changing area. Zeke usually tried to arrive early so he could have a chance to think and get his head in the game before all the others arrived and their smack talk started in earnest. “You know it’s possible he’ll figure out who you are.”
“Maybe.” Zeke sat on one of the benches. “But I never told him my last name, and he isn’t going to make a connection between Zeke and Hy because he isn’t looking for one.” He shrugged. “Besides, you know I’m not ashamed of who I am. It’s just that I’m… I don’t want gossip, and….”
“I get it,” Carson said. “When I first met Charlene, I didn’t tell her about all this for a while because I wanted her to like me for me, not because I was a top bull rider.”
Zeke bumped his shoulder. “Bullshit. You didn’t tell her because you liked her and were afraid she’d go running for the hills the first time she saw you get thrown.” Not that he blamed him. Their profession could be murder on relationships. There were tons of buckle bunnies and rabbits hanging around, just hoping for a quick roll in the hay. When he was younger, Zeke had taken some of the rabbits for a ride, but it was always a gamble that they’d blab to the world, and it wasn’t like it was going to lead to a relationship.
Carson bumped him back. “Look, there’s something important I have to tell you before the others get in here.” His expression turned serious. “You and me, we’ve got a lot of history and look after each other.” He bit his lower lip. “But I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He looked so torn up, his face drawn and expression sad.
“What? Are you in love with me or something?”
Carson nearly shoved him off the bench. “God, no. Not that way anyhow.” Carson tugged him to his feet, still shaking his head. “Sometimes you’re such a dork. God. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m retiring, because if you win the world championships, your head is going to be so big that you’ll need a hotel room of your own.”
Zeke paused to take in what Carson had just said. “You’re hanging it up?” Damn, this wasn’t going to be the same.
“Yeah. This is going to be my last event. Charlene and I talked it over. When I asked her how she felt, she said I needed to do what was right for me. It takes longer and longer for me to recover now. I’m afraid the next injury is going to be the one I can’t come back from, and I need to be worth something if I’m going to take care of her. Charlene deserves a full-time husband, so after this, I’m going back to the family ranch, taking it over from my dad, and building a life with her there.” He waved around him. “This was a great life, and I love it, but it’s time I grew up a little.”
Zeke could understand. Bull riding was a tough life. He loved the rush he got each time he climbed into the chute for a ride, but other parts of the business weren’t so much fun.
“Hy, there you are,” Roger Bardell, his manager, said as he hurried in, breathing hard. “I’ve been looking for you.” He paused to catch his breath. Roger had been around this business for decades, so he didn’t always move as easily as he used to. “I got people possibly interested in sponsoring you for next year. It’s not definite yet, though.” He seemed so pleased anyway. “They want you to wear their logo on your vest, which is no problem.” He paused to take another breath. “It’s a chain of sporting goods stores. They want you to visit a bunch of their stores, sign autographs, give some demonstrations… that sort of thing.”
Zeke groaned. “I have a ranch that I need to be able to take care of. You know that. I can do some visits, but I can’t spend months traveling all over the country to every store.” He sighed. Everybody wanted something. “Just make sure it’s a reasonable number of visits and we’ll make them happen.” He was getting so tired all of a sudden.
“Sure,” Roger said. “And after today’s ride, I got some people who want to meet you.” He pulled up a folding chair and sat down. “Try not to get hurt. These guys can bring you more sponsorships, and they’re real fans of the sport.” He sat back with a wheezing sigh.
“Yeah, I’ll just have a little conversation with the bull and tell him to make it look good, but to let me off easy.” Zeke rolled his eyes. Sometimes Roger could say the weirdest things.
“You have enough points to get to the finals already. All I’m saying is, try to… I don’t know… take it a little safe so I can put some money in your pocket.”
The other riders came in and started changing, and the level of conversation in the area rose as Zeke finished getting ready and left with Roger.
“I need some time to go back to the ranch,” he told Roger. “Mom and Dad are having a hard time getting everything done and they need me.”
“I’m sorry about that, but we need to make the most of things while you’re hot.”
They stepped out into the arena, and a few kids rushed over, asking for his autograph and handing him their souvenir programs. Zeke signed them with a smile. “Enjoy the show.”
“We will,” they said excitedly and hurried off.
“I need to get ready to ride.” Zeke said goodbye to Roger and hurried back to get his gear before walking out to the edge of the ring.
He’d already been told where they wanted him to stand for his introduction, so he stood in place as the announcer revved up the crowd. Fire shot out of jets in the arena floor as one by one they were introduced and took their turns to draw their bull from the bowl. Because of his standing in the season, he rode toward the end.
“Hy Whitely,” the announcer called as he reached into the large bowl and drew out a number. “Got number seven, Triumphant!” The crowd gasped, and Zeke’s heart missed a beat. “The number one bull on the tour this year, folks. His buckoff is 100 percent so far. Let’s see if Hy can break that streak!”
The crowd roared, and Zeke pumped the air with a fist, then waited for the other draws before filing out and taking a place out of the way so the others could ride.
“You got this, Zeke,” Carson told him with a pat on the back.
Zeke followed him to the chutes, and when it was Carson’s turn, he was there to help him get seated. Yes, it was a competition against the other riders, but Zeke had always envisioned bull riding as a man against raw, powerful nature. The standings would take care of themselves.
The chute opened, and the bull charged out, jumping and whirling. Carson held on, but Zeke saw the instant his balance wasn’t where it should be. The next jump sent Carson high in the air, and he flew off the bull and landed hard on the arena floor. The bull continued bucking, then stopped and turned back. The clowns were trying to distract him away from where Carson lay exposed on the arena floor. The crowd held their breath while the bull didn’t move, head down slightly, getting ready to charge right over Carson, who slowly rolled over and tried to get up. One of the clowns grabbed him by the arm, hauling Carson to his feet and half dragging him to the gate, getting him out and the gate closed as the bull charged it.
The bang reverberated through the arena.
Zeke hurried over as Carson waved to the crowd.
“Give it up! He’s okay!” the announcer said, but even so, medical personnel were already there, looking Carson over.
“I’m okay. There’s nothing broken and I can breathe now,” Carson said softly, as he was looked over and then allowed to get up. Zeke got Carson to a seat and made him stay quiet as the other riders took their turns. “Tell me why we do this again?”
“For the fun and adulation of the crowd,” Zeke quipped as his ride time approached. He stood, picking up his gear. A small white envelope fell to the floor. He scooped it up and handed it to Carson to hold as he headed for his ride.
As he approached the loading chute, his mind shifted and the part of him that was Zeke faded away as Hy and his bull rider concentration took over. Triumphant was rank, and he smelled it too. He barely stood still in the chute, and getting the bull rope o
n was difficult. Finally all was ready, and Hy climbed up and sat on top of twelve hundred pounds of muscle and raw power. Eight seconds—that was all he needed. Hy could see the ride in his head. He knew this bull from studying his previous rides.
The buzzer sounded and the chute opened. There was no way in hell to muscle one of these beasts; it was about balance and being able to anticipate and go with the animal. Keep your butt down and your hips loose, flow and move, use your arm for balance without touching the bull. Triumphant jumped left, spun right, and then did the same thing the opposite way, creating a gravity well to pull Hy down. He didn’t fall for it, holding tight with his legs as Triumphant jumped again, then hit the ground with enough force that it rattled every bone in his head. Time seemed to run in slow motion, buck after jump and whirl, and he stayed on until, somewhere at the edge of his concentration, the buzzer sounded. He waited until Triumphant went up again and he released his hold, continuing up and then falling back to the floor. He hit the dirt on his feet, bending his legs to take the impact, perfectly dismounting, and headed for the fence. It was an amazing ride, and as soon as he climbed up to sit on top of the rail, he turned to the crowd, and the roar of their cheering hit him like a wave. He’d done it.
Someone stuffed his hat in his hand, and he waved it at the crowd, looking around as he waited for his score.
“For Hy Whitely, 91.13. Highest score of the day. Let’s show him our appreciation for that wild ride. He’s heading to the finals, and I can’t wait to see what he has in store for us there.”
The din exploded around him. Smiling, Hy climbed down off the rail and headed around the side and back to the changing area.
“Great ride,” Obie, one of the clowns, told him as he handed Zeke his bull rope, and Zeke nodded toward him.
The adrenaline wave that had powered him through the ride slowly ebbed, and he sat on one of the benches. Some riders congratulated him, while others looked at him jealously. Zeke paid little attention to their conversation, packing up his things.
Once the competition was over for the day, he headed back out to sign autographs and meet some of the fans. Zeke always did a signing and took special care to talk to the kids, who looked at him with such wonder and excitement.
“Does it hurt?” one of the boys asked as Zeke signed his program.
“Sometimes,” Zeke answered. “With bull riding, it’s not if you’ll get hurt, but when. It’s part of what makes it exciting.” He signed his name and posed for a picture with the boy, who grinned like he’d won the lottery. Zeke repeated the process for everyone who wanted an autograph or a picture.
It was late by the time he left the arena to go back to the hotel. He was tired and cranky as hell.
“Do you want a ride?” Carson asked as he pulled up.
“Considering I came with you and was wondering where you were, yes.” Zeke tossed his bag in the back and got in.
“Bitchy pills?” Carson asked.
“Yeah. Sorry.” They rode to the hotel without talking. Once there, Zeke schlepped his bag to the room and dropped it on the floor next to his bed. “Are you going out?”
Carson lay down on the bed. “No. I’m going to take some painkillers and hope to hell they do enough so I can sleep.” He groaned as he rolled over. “I was hoping to do better on my last ride, but I guess it’s fitting.” He slowly sat up, wincing slightly. “You’re younger than I am, and you still have some good years ahead of you. I’m an old man in this sport, and today was a wake-up call. If I had any doubts, they’re gone.” He slid slowly off the bed, went to the bathroom, and closed the door.
Zeke sat on the edge of his bed, wondering where to get dinner and if Robert was around. He thought of going back to the same bar to see if he was there or even stopping by the Plains to check if he was hanging out somewhere. But Zeke didn’t want to look desperate.
A thud from the bathroom pulled Zeke out of his thoughts, and he hurried to the door. “Carson, are you okay?” He knocked on the door and heard nothing in return. “Carson?” He tried the door and called again. Zeke stepped back and kicked the door open.
Carson lay on the floor, flat on his back. He was barely breathing. “Can’t move,” he whispered.
Zeke raced back into the room, grabbed his phone, and called for an ambulance. Then he sat with Carson, concern and worry building by the second until his head ached, as he held Carson’s hand and talked to him until help arrived. They carefully checked Carson over and loaded him on a gurney to take him out to the ambulance. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
Carson squeezed his hand. “No. You have to ride tomorrow. Call Charlene and tell her what happened.” He closed his eyes. “There’s nothing you can do, and I won’t mess up your chances at the title. Just win it for both of us.”
“Sir, we need to take him now,” the EMT said, and Carson glared at him when he began to follow.
“Call Charlene,” Carson said again.
Zeke watched as they took Carson away, then grabbed his phone and made one of the hardest calls he’d ever had to make.
“What’s happened to Carson?” Charlene asked as she answered the phone. “You’d only call if he couldn’t.” She was one smart lady, and Zeke thought the world of her.
Zeke explain what happened during Carson’s ride and how he’d collapsed in their room. “Carson must have been injured more than they thought at the stadium. I was going to go with him—”
“But he insisted you stay,” she said quietly. “That’s Carson. Bulls and riding come first.”
“For what it’s worth, he told me this was his last event and he was coming home to you permanently. And he seemed to be looking forward to it.” Maybe Carson wasn’t going to have a choice now, but in the end, Zeke thought she needed to know that Carson ultimately chose her over the ring. “He and I talked before his last ride. Even afterward he said that he was done.” He hoped it wasn’t too little, too late. “They were taking him to Regional here in Cheyenne,” Zeke told her. He knew he should have ignored Carson and just gone with him.
“I’ll get there as soon as I can. It won’t be for a while.” The near panic in her voice was more than he could take.
“Do you know Danny Marshall?” Zeke asked. “He has a plane. I’ll call him and see if he can fly you in from Jackson. It will take you hours to get here by car. Pack your things and let me call you back.” He was pretty sure he could make this happen.
He dialed and waited, chanting for Danny to pick up. “Oh, thank God,” he whispered when he heard Danny’s voice. “Dude, I need to call in a favor. Carson got hurt… b-bad, in Cheyenne, and Charlene needs to get here.” God, he was stammering. “He can’t move most of his body.”
“And you want me to get her to Cheyenne,” Danny said. “Of course I’ll take care of it.”
“You read my mind.” Zeke got the details and thanked Danny, then called Charlene right back. “Are you packed? Meet Danny at the private airport on the south side of town.” He gave her the address. “He’ll be there in an hour and fly you out. I’ll meet you here and take you to the hospital.”
“Okay.” Strength returned to Charlene’s voice. “I’ll be there.” She took a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
“Just get going, and I’ll meet you in a few hours.”
“I’ll call as soon as we land,” Charlene agreed. “And, Hy… thanks for everything.” She sniffed, and Zeke wished there was something more he could do for her. The profession that he and Carson had chosen was dangerous and injuries were common. They knew the risks involved every time they climbed into the chute, and they did it willingly because part of them demanded it. Being bull riders was what he and Carson both knew and understood. It was a big part of who they were. But now Charlene was paying the price for Carson’s decision.
“Of course. You and Carson are family.” He swallowed hard, again wishing he’d ignored Carson and had gone along with him. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He ended the call and confirmed with Dann
y that Charlene would meet him at the airport.
For a while he paced the room, wondering what was going on with Carson. Needing to get out, he ended up outside, wandering down the road. His head swimming, Zeke found himself at a small diner about half a mile from his hotel. He went inside, but the tables were full. He was preparing to wait when a familiar face caught his attention. Robert’s smile brightened his mood a little, and Zeke made his way over.
Robert motioned to the booth seat across from him. “Did you enjoy the rodeo?” he asked.
“Yes. It was a great show.” At least it had been until a few hours ago. He had to remember that Robert thought he was only attending the event. He was glad he hadn’t told him who he was. Zeke wanted to not be Hy for a while, especially now. “Did you have a good time?”
Robert nodded excitedly. “It was great. I used to wonder what it would be like to ride a bull and rope a steer. Though now I think the bull riding is best left to someone else.” He sipped from his water glass as the server approached the table. Robert ordered a burger, and Zeke got the same but without the fries. He needed to watch what he ate if he was going to maintain his weight. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.”
Zeke agreed, trying to keep his concerns from working their way forward again. After the ride of his life, he’d been anticipating the final round as well, but now his head was back with Carson. He had seen injuries before, some serious. Carson had been injured and so had he, but this one was affecting Zeke in a much deeper way as questions about his future raced through his head at lightning speed. For now, at least with Robert, he could be just Zeke. “I’m glad you had a good time.”
Robert smiled, his gaze filling with heat that tempted Zeke. It would be so easy to roll with that and let go of his worries. He could lose himself in Robert’s willing arms for a few hours. “Last night, today… this has been a great stop.” Robert licked his lips.
“I’m sorry,” Zeke said softly.
