“Don’t matter if you can’t do it,” Reb said. Harry could see his eyes were staring straight at Dutch. “Alls that matter is that you tried, you’re gonna get up on that horse and show your old man you can do it. Your daddy never even thought you would go this far. You got him beat. Besides,” Reb said, pushing Harry against a wall behind the bleachers. “You got me, cowboy.” Reb leaned in and kissed him with so much passion it left Harry dazed.
“You crazy fuck!” He wiped a hand across his mouth, but he smiled in spite of his shock.
Reb snickered and cocked his head to the side. “Go get ‘em, cowboy. I’ll be right here waitin’ on ya.”
It was time for Harry to go and get ready and as he walked away he could still feel Reb’s tongue in his mouth, his arms around him and he began to wonder if he were walking on the ground at all. It was with this contact high that Harry got on El Diablo, and how he got off.
Harry didn’t remember much of his ride on El Diablo that day and lucky for him he didn’t need to. The papers, Reb, Blake and just about everyone who was at the rodeo were more than happy to tell him all about it.
“A rider who rode as if he had been born on horseback,” one slightly verbose city reporter said.
“Crazy ass kid could’ve broken his neck a thousand times…hell yeah I’ll come see him again, just to see if he can do it again,” a male spectator replied when asked by a local paper for his reactions to the new saddle bronc rider.
“That was my son,” Dutch Reynolds was rumored to have said at least a thousand times to whoever listened, but it didn’t really matter, and he knew it.
Harry was embraced and cheered until his body was numb and his ears were ringing. The whole time he couldn’t think of anything except Reb. He had thought that once he had done it, once he had made his first ride that somehow he wouldn’t be able to think about anything, but in that first crazy moment when he dismounted the first thing he knew was that he had something important that he wanted to say.
It was while he was looking for Reb that he saw Dutch. He was alone standing by the huge exit in back, leaning against the building, looking old and tired.
“You sure showed me.” Dutch looked up, Harry could tell he was struggling, never a man who could admit he’d been outdone.
“Just luck maybe,” Harry offered as he walked closer, his eyes still searching for Reb.
“Maybe,” Dutch replied. “But I don’t think so. I think I held you back and now you are loosed.”
“Ha! That’s what Reb said.” Harry came closer; he could smell Dutch’s special aftershave, fresh, and limey. “ Guess maybe I had to just show you I was ready.”
“Reb Alistair said that? Guess you all is pretty thick now, maybe he’ll go on to be your handler, wouldn’t surprise me one bit, he was born to be second.” Dutch scratched at the side of his face; his stubble making a dry sound, Harry could tell he was uncomfortable at the mention of Reb. “You were born to be first, guess you showed me that today, guess maybe I always knew it. I knew you could ride that horse, something in your eye told me so,” Dutch looked away, “ehh, I’m just talkin’ crazy.”
“Maybe so,” Harry said. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens next.” He finally found Reb who was waving from the parking lot; Harry could see the old red truck.
“I’ll tell you what’s next, son, you’re gonna be a star, you’re Dutch’s boy but you are definitely your own man.” Dutch offered Harry a large, suntanned hand, “and that’s something.”
Harry looked down at the hand and then up at his father whose eyes were shining. “That sure is something.” He took his father’s hand but instead of shaking it he threw his arms around Dutch and hugged him tight until he heard Dutch sigh. Harry could tell Dutch was about to shed so he pulled away and with a final pat on Dutch’s shoulder, he walked away. He could hear Dutch call for Bowlswurth who came running from somewhere and even though he sounded choked up, he could hear Dutch’s control return as he barked an order that Harry could no longer make out.
The sun was setting and there was Reb, his red truck framed against the sunset. People were hooting and hollering, calling out all kinds of chants and well wishes drunken and otherwise. Harry couldn’t hear a thing. His lips were trembling with the words he burned to speak.
“Hi there,” Reb said. He was leaning against the truck, one arm behind him, looking to Harry as perfect as ever. “Sorry I took off, had to get you these.” He pulled the arm he had been hiding out from behind himself, revealing a huge collection of wild flowers. “ Picked them myself.”
Harry looked into Reb’s eyes and reached out to take the bundle Reb held. He didn’t know what he liked better the flowers or the blush over Reb’s face. Their hands touched and it took every fiber of his being not to pull Reb close.
“I love you,” Harry said it so quickly he thought he might not have said it at all, but looking at Reb’s face, he could tell by the sudden flush that replaced the blush that he had indeed spoken. “You hear me, Reb Alistair? I said I love you, you crazy bastard!”
Harry was about to say it again but was in Reb’s arms before he could speak, both their hats fell off. “I love you too. Harry Reynolds.”
They only broke apart when they heard a familiar voice call out, “You boys coming?” They looked back to see Blake staring at them. Tomas sat in the passenger seat. Thankfully, the trailer had pulled up just in time to block anyone from seeing Harry and Reb’s embrace. “We got El Diablo in the trailer and a shit load of beer to celebrate seems you got one more thing to do before we get to drinkin.”
“You still gonna let him go?” Reb asked.
Harry could feel Reb’s hand on his back. “I never go back on my word. That horse ain’t for the rodeo. I was raised to keep my promise; don’t you know who my Daddy is?”
Table of Contents
Dutch's Boy
Dedication
1
2
Dutch's Boy Page 6
