Home on the Ranch: Oklahoma Bull Rider

by Christine Wenger

  “What’s Mickey doing?” he said it twice, to be heard over the thunder.

  “He’s playing checkers with another boy.”

  “He’s not bothered about the storm?”

  “Uh, no. He’s not. You can let me down now, and you can say ‘I told you so.’”

  “Let’s go someplace dry first,” he said, wiping his hands on his jeans, as she jumped to the ground.

  As he reached for Sara to steady her, she grinned. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  They ran to Bunkhouse 13 and entered the cabin. Jesse led her to a chair by his bunk. She took his coat off and hung it over the back.

  Jesse took another chair and looked into her grass-green eyes. “Have you thought of counseling while you’re here?”

  No answer.

  “Sara?”

  She picked up her former towel, and wiped some of the rain off. “It was your idea to peek in the windows, Jesse.”

  “Yeah. It was. So you wouldn’t go barging into Bunkhouse 12 and embarrassing Mickey.”

  “I don’t think I would have embarrassed him. He would know that I cared.”

  “What don’t you get about young boys and how they can tease?” he asked. “I was one of them. I gave as good as I got. It can be hurtful, if you’re on the receiving end.”

  “Mickey won’t defend himself. He won’t talk.”

  “Exactly!”

  “Oh.”

  “He’s having a great time. You saw that. Let him be now. Have your own great time.”

  “Jesse, I can’t remember when I’ve last had a great time, and I can’t remember when I relaxed my vigilance with Mickey.”

  Her words were angry, defiant maybe. Jesse opened the door to escort her back to her bunkhouse. She couldn’t be found here with him.

  “Well, Sara, I’m going to change that.”

  * * *

  Sara walked with Jesse to her bunkhouse in silence. She didn’t care about the rain; she was as wet as she could possibly be.

  “Thanks for a nice evening, Jesse.” Then she shut the door, almost slammed it, in his face.

  So, Jesse was going to change things, huh? Stop her from watching Mickey? Show her a good time? If she was such a mess, why did he want to bother with her?

  Why couldn’t he just be a bull rider and leave the counseling to someone else?

  And that was another thing: Jesse wanted her to see a counselor here.

  She’d been to so many, she could tell them what they would eventually say: There’s nothing physically wrong with Mickey. He’ll talk when he wants to. Be calm and relax, Sara. Meditate. Do yoga. Take a vacation away from Mickey. You need to refill the well and do something for yourself. Why don’t you date?

  But right now she just wanted to scream. Hurrying to her bunk, she dived into it, wet clothes and all. Then she buried her face into her pillow and screamed, again and again.

  Sometimes she liked this kind of therapy the best.

  The evening had started out like a dream. Dancing with Jesse and sitting by the lake with him. If she closed her eyes, she could remember his kisses and feel her stomach flip at the pleasure.

  She even had fun peeking in on Mickey with Jesse.

  Then he started preaching to her.

  She’d wanted one evening where she didn’t have to think about Mickey, and she could just be a woman.

  Oh, hell! Wanting to comfort Mickey was her obsession tonight, not Jesse’s.

  Double hell! She was always obsessing over Mickey.

  She’d been to every counselor/therapist/psychiatrist and psychologist in her area. She even saw a priest to help her. And the bull rider told her to go to yet someone else at Camp Care?

  Sara needed a vacation from all that for a while. Just for a while.

  Much to her embarrassment, she had been rude to Jesse. He meant well, but he had to stop telling her to get therapy. Funds were nonexistent, so it was a moot point these days.

  Then there was her goal of a cowboy fling. Judging by Jesse’s kisses, she had chosen wisely! Then she had blown it by getting mad and practically slamming the door in his face.

  It was time to get rid of her wet clothes and maybe take a hot shower. Sara gathered up a set of new clothes, shampoo, soap and a towel and walked to the women’s shower.

  But something caught her eye in the window on the right side of the cabin. There it was again. It was a blur, but it kept appearing. She went closer.

  It was Jesse Beaumont. He was jumping up and down in front of the window.

  Sara cranked out the window and put her forehead on the screen. Jesse jumped up.

  “What on earth are you doing?” she asked.

  “Can Sara come out to play?”

  She chuckled. “Is it still raining?”

  “Some. It’s more like mist. Let’s go for a walk in the mist. I have an hour before I have to get back to Bunkhouse Lucky 13. Or we could go back to the dance.”

  She hesitated. Did she really want Jesse’s company right now?

  The answer was an overwhelming yes!

  She found a brush in her purse and ran it over her hair. Then she went back to the window. “I’m too much of a mess to go back to the dance, but I’ll go for a walk with you.”

  “Great!”

  Sara couldn’t believe how quickly she changed into dry clothes. They might get wet again, but she might as well get rid of the thin sundress, put on warm clothes, and top it all off with a Camp Care–issued, yellow plastic poncho.

  I must look stunning.

  Jesse stood on one of the steps. She saw him just as she opened the door. His wet shirt clung to him like a coat of paint, and she could see every muscle on his chest.

  His jeans clung, too—in all the right places.

  “Yeah, I’m even wetter since the last time you saw me.”

  “That was less than ten minutes ago,” she said, closing the door behind her.

  “See? I can’t live without you.”

  Sara laughed and moved toward the path that led to the lake. “Let’s go to the lake again. It must be magical there now with this mist.”

  “First, I’d like to check on the horses. See how they weathered the storm.”

  “Okay.”

  He took her hand and they walked to the barn. It was close to the rec hall where the party was still hopping. She could hear the music and sang along. Jesse joined in with his low, sexy voice.

  They weren’t Tim McGraw and Faith Hill, but they were good.

  Jesse unlocked the padlock with a key from his pocket, opened the door and took her hand again. The earthy smell of dirt, hay and manure hit her, but it wasn’t too awful. She got used to it.

  Jesse went to each horse, some thirty of them, checking their legs and rubbing their big bodies. She went from stall to stall with him, standing there, watching him, thirty times.

  But she didn’t mind. She loved watching Jesse. Sara didn’t know a thing about horses other than they were big and scary, but she could tell that Jesse had a way with them. His gentle touch and his deep voice soothed the horses.

  “All looks good,” Jesse said, then he snapped his fingers. “Let’s dance.”

  “Here?”

  “Sure. It has a nice dance floor. Just watch where you’re stepping.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. It was hard to stay miffed at the bull rider.

  He held out a hand, and she took it. He twirled her twice before she landed in his arms.

  His hand went to her back and she heard the crunch of a poncho. “Sorry, but I left my ball gown back in my cabin.”

  “I left my tux back in mine.”

  He twirled her around the barn in step to an old Anne Murray song echoing from the recreation center, covering a lot of barn territory. She was getting dizzy, bu
t she loved it. Sara could picture herself in a beautiful ball gown, and how dashing Jesse would look in a tux.

  Lit by overhead lamps, dust motes whirled around them. Periodically, a horse would whinny, reminding her that she had an audience.

  And Jesse hummed in her ear. The cowboy sure could move, and she knew that because one of her therapists had suggested that she take ballroom dancing to calm herself. She’d graduated in six weeks, and she wasn’t any calmer, but she was a better dancer.

  Sara wanted to get rid of the poncho so she could feel the warmth of Jesse’s hand on her back, but all too soon the song was over and the next dance was a fast one.

  Jesse checked his watch. “I’m sorry about our walk, Sara. I have to get back so Roving Ramrod Ronnie can spend some time at the party. I didn’t know that checking the horses would take so long.”

  “It’s all right. I’m getting tired. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day, starting with breakfast. We are having hash, scrambled eggs and beans for breakfast. Oh, and sourdough biscuits. It’s our Salute to the Trail Ride Day.”

  “I see.” He chuckled. “What’s for lunch?”

  “Beans and Sloppy Joes on a sourdough biscuit.” She grinned. “You know how those drovers loved their Sloppy Joes.”

  “Dare I ask about supper?”

  “Beans—”

  “Of course! What else? Oh, please don’t say it, don’t say it!”

  “Chili.”

  “You said it.” He shook his head. “My brother Reed told me that Cookie was big on chili. I’m not a fan of the stuff.”

  “I’ll see what else I can make you.”

  At first he seemed grateful until he thought about it more. “No. Absolutely not. I’ll have what my wranglers are having.”

  She laughed. “What some ramrods will do for God, country and their wranglers.” Sara held up her hand and they high-fived.

  “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”

  “I’m okay. You don’t have to walk me back.”

  “I insist. Maybe this time, you won’t slam the door in my face.”

  “Uh... I was overwhelmed by some...issues.”

  Jesse locked up the barn behind them, and took her hand. “Any of those issues have to do with me?”

  “They’re long-standing ones. You just reminded me of them when I wanted to forget them for a month.”

  “Care to give me more information? You’re a little sketchy, and I don’t want to make the same mistake.”

  Sara didn’t speak. She was deciding whether or not to share her feelings with Jesse, but she’d never mention a fling with him.

  He squeezed her hand. “I have two ears. Hit me with it.”

  “I just wanted to take a break from counseling, and I just wanted to use the time here for a type of uh...vacation. When I get back to reality, I’m going to have to hunt for a job, and get back into running the two of us from therapist to therapist.”

  “Gets tiring, doesn’t it?”

  “I feel like a soccer mom without the ball.”

  They both laughed.

  Sara listened to the rain dripping from the trees. “You know, Jesse. You’re good for me, mostly.”

  “Mostly?”

  “I haven’t laughed this much in a long time.”

  “But, Sara, you have a great sense of humor.”

  “It’s been dormant.”

  “It’s waking up,” Jesse told her.

  Sara could hear laughter coming from up the path. Some of her bunkmates were returning from the party.

  She stepped away from Jesse. No sense in initiating any more gossip than what already existed about her and Jesse.

  “Hey, you two,” said Jules, one of a group of four, all of whom were her bunkmates. “Did we interrupt something?”

  “No,” Sara said.

  Jesse grinned. “Yes! We were just saying goodbye.”

  “We’d better leave them alone, ladies,” said Patty.

  They filed into the cabin single file, giving Sara raised eyebrows and winks.

  She couldn’t help but grin. Jesse pulled her close. “I’m giving you the opportunity to run away.”

  Sara longed for some goodbye kisses. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “I don’t know if I’m part of your vacation plans.”

  “Cowboy, you are at the top of the list of my vacation plans.”

  Sara closed the gap between them, putting her hands on his cheeks. She couldn’t believe she was that bold.

  Jesse raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently for her next move.

  She kissed his lips, tentatively at first, then harder. He pulled her close, closer still. Darn the yellow poncho! It was creating a barrier between them.

  Jesse must have thought so, too. He pulled up her poncho and placed his hands on her hips.

  Then he dipped her!

  She wasn’t ready for that, and gave a garbled scream. He kissed her, his tongue playing with the outline of her lips. She opened her lips for him, and his tongue found hers in an intimate dance.

  All too soon, he righted her, and she gasped for breathe.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “A dip.”

  “Do it again, Jesse.”

  And he did.

  Chapter 9

  Sara stifled a yawn the next morning as she was dishing out hash and scrambled eggs in the chow line. Jules, next to her, had the pancakes. Then Patty had the fruit.

  They were all tired because they didn’t get to sleep until about four in the morning. Then they had to be at the chuck wagon to help Cookie get breakfast ready at six.

  The laughing and teasing in her bunkhouse had been one for the record. It was as if she was back in a pajama party circa eighth grade and talking nonstop about boys.

  There was chat about first dates, ex-husbands, current husbands, the one who got away, but the most gossip revolved around one man: Jesse Beaumont.

  “You should see that man ride bulls,” Kelli said. “He’s a real cowboy.”

  “He’s also wonderful with the kids in the equine program.”

  Janice chuckled. “I’m wondering how I can get into the equine program.”

  “If he rescues kittens from trees, I’m in love!” added Jules. “Hell, I’m in love with him now! Sara, you’re one lucky woman.”

  “Sara, is he a good kisser? He has to be,” Patty said.

  Janice shook her head. “Don’t answer that.”

  Sara raised her hand for them all to stop. “I am afraid that you all are under the wrong impression. We’re just friends.”

  “You looked like more than friends on the steps just now,” Janice stated.

  “Let’s change the subject,” Sara said, then raised an eyebrow. “I don’t kiss and tell!”

  The bunkmates all roared with laughter, but thankfully, the subject changed to one of the roving ramrods by the name of Cooper. Sara remembered Cooper as being tall, dark and handsome, but he had nothing on Jesse.

  Sara tried to keep her mind on the job at hand. She searched the chuck wagon line for Mickey, and he was about twentieth in line, patiently waiting.

  Finally, it was his turn. “Good morning, Mickey. Are you having fun?”

  He nodded enthusiastically and grinned.

  “And you are going to ride today, right?” Sara asked.

  There was the same reaction, and Sara hoped that Mickey would say something, anything.

  Mickey moved along the line, and Sara waited for Jesse to come through. Craning her neck, she didn’t see him.

  “Waiting for Jesse?” Jules whispered.

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Yeah, right. Sara, it’s written all over your face.”

  “What is?”

  “That you’re interested in him.”

&
nbsp; “Jesse and I fight all the time, Jules,” Sara whispered, ladling out hash and eggs to the next wrangler. “It’s not what you think. I’m just going to have a summer fling, remember?”

  “Then fling away,” Jules said. “But I think you should hold out for more. The man is a good catch.”

  “Mickey is my life. I don’t have room for a man.”

  “Yes. Yes, you do, Sara. Of course, you do. Look, we don’t know each other very well, but I’d hate for you to miss out on a great opportunity.”

  “And I have to get to know Jesse more.”

  “Not for a fling you don’t. You just need to know their sexual history. You know, how many partners has he had? Has he been tested?”

  Sara dropped her large spoon on the floor. “Oh, no. I never thought about all of that.”

  She picked up the spoon from the floor, and went over to the sink to wash it. Her stomach sank. She’d never had to think about all that stuff before. Truth be told, Michael had been her only partner, since they grew up together in the same grammar school and high school. They even both went to Syracuse University. Michael got a bachelor’s in business, but Sara had had to drop out to work to pay for some of Michael’s tuition so he could finish.

  She remembered berating Jesse because he was going to community college when he could, when she’d never gone back to SU to finish her degree.

  What kind of a snob was she?

  Now she had to worry about Jesse’s previous sexual partners? She couldn’t imagine the number of buckle bunnies throwing themselves at his feet. Jesse had to be a man of steel to resist them. She was going to need an adding machine.

  And she hoped like hell that all of his encounters were protected.

  She had to talk to Jesse before she got together with him. Added to all that was Mickey... Life sure was complicated.

  Maybe she should forget about a fling, and forget about Jesse.

  “Hi there, Sara!” It was Jesse. “You’re going to scrub a hole in that metal spoon.”

  She didn’t realize that she’d been still washing the spoon while she was thinking. Looking out front, she gasped at the long line. “Can’t talk. I have to get back to my station.”

  “I am at the end of the line, but I came to ask you if you are busy tonight.”