Texas Thunder

by R. Casteel

  Bewildered he turned to Sherry. “What was that?”

  “Cynthia’s racecar,” she divulged.

  “Her what!” he was astonished at her answer.

  “Her racecar. She races at the dirt track at Cross Cut and several other tracks around. Relax. She’s an excellent driver and she’ll be back in time to go to Dallas. Even if she does think you’re the most stubborn, obstinate, male chauvinist pig she ever knew, she won’t miss this rodeo. Don’t think about chasing after her. Give her some time to cool off.”

  Breakfast was a quiet affair. Cynthia’s abrupt leaving had signaled to those in the barn that something was amiss.

  The rest of the morning, he thought about his conversation with Cynthia. He wasn’t sure just how he was going to change her mind now. But he had to try. The thought of losing her was unbearable. He finally admitted the reason to himself. I love her and don’t want to spend the rest of my life without her.

  About ten o’clock, Charles heard Cynthia’s car coming up the drive. He was waiting in the garage. As she crawled out of the car, Charles stepped out of the shadows.

  “Cynthia,” his voice softly pleading.

  She stopped and turned towards him. Cynthia was still hurt over the argument that morning. She’d known in her heart that was the attitude he would take. His duty. For the last two hours, she had run laps as hard as she could down at the race track trying to outrun the hurt. The only thing she had accomplished was to miss breakfast and get dirty.

  Dust completely covered her clothes. There was a grease smudge on her forehead and cheek. Charles thought she was lovely.

  “Forgive me. Please.” Charles watched as tears slowly etched a path down her dusty cheek. His heart and soul was being ripped apart as he watched her turn away.

  “Before you walk out that door there’s something you need to know.” Charles held his breath as she stopped, but didn’t turn around. “For years I have blamed myself for the death of my wife and the loss of love we shared. I told myself I couldn’t love another woman. I couldn’t cope with the fear, with the possibility of one day losing her like I lost Shelly. If you walk out that door, that fear will be a reality. Cynthia, I love you.”

  Cynthia turned; her eyes glistened like dew on the petals of a rose. The tentative smile she wore was a silver lining of hope to the dark clouds of doubt that covered him.

  As she looked him in the face, she remembered what it was that attracted her. The unwavering eyes spoke of integrity and honesty. The rugged face portrayed strength and the set of his jaw, determination. The words Charles spoke came from the heart.

  When he opened his arms, she was drawn like a magnet. As they held each other close she whispered, “Charles, I love you. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  Charles chuckled. “Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself? I haven’t asked you yet.”

  She leaned back to look into his face. “But I thought. I mean . . .”

  “If you remember,” he interrupted her, “I demanded, not asked. For too many years I have been ordering and demanding, I’ve forgotten how to ask.” Charles fought the urge to smile or laugh. “You may have to help me out.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Cynthia said, laughing at him. “Just say; I love you. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes Cynthia,” Charles’s voice full of emotion. “I’ll…”

  “You’re supposed to…”

  Her words were cut off by Charles’s kiss. “Who cares who does the asking?” he said when they parted for air. “As long as the question gets asked and answered.”

  Sherry saw them walking back to the house. She met them on the porch. “It appears you two got things straightened out.”

  “Sure did,” Charles announced. “Cynthia finally asked me to marry her and I accepted.”

  Sherry look confused for a second and then laughed. “You two deserve each other. Now hurry and get cleaned up, we’re about ready to leave for Dallas.”

  * * * * *

  They pulled into Dallas around two and found a frenzy of activity already unleashed on the stadium grounds. Horse trailers and vehicles of every description were being unloaded. The girls took off to find their stalls while Howard and David unloaded the horses.

  Several trailers down from them, a young cowgirl was having a difficult time with a horse that was frightened by all the noise and commotion. A vehicle’s engine backfired, the horse reared and the girl lost the halter.

  David grabbed the lariat and as the horse charged by a loop settled perfectly around its neck. David set his heels and took the shock of the rope in his legs. As he was being pulled down the path leaving two furrows in the ground from his boots, Howard and several others ran to assist.

  Cynthia calmed the horse and David took the mare back to a very grateful owner. He was rewarded with a very thorough kiss. It was beginning to look as though Howard and Charles were going to be left with unloading the trailer as David and the girl headed toward the barn.

  Howard took off his hat and run a hand through his hair, then with a smile laughed. “Well, I guess that will be the last we see of him for a while. She was a pretty little filly,” he winked at Charles. “By the way, congratulations. I hear Cynthia popped the question and you accepted,” he offered Charles his hand.

  “Welcome to the family. I can’t wait to see Mom and Dad’s face when they hear about it. They will be here in the morning.”

  If Charles thought the outside was frantic, the inside looked like organized chaos. The only think that came to his mind in comparison was of an anthill that someone had stepped in. Cynthia seeing the look of disbelief gave his arm a shake. “Relax, by tomorrow morning it will all be organized.” Charles looked at her doubtfully.

  “Ok,” she laughed, “most of it will be organized.” They spotted David several stalls down helping the young cowgirl rub down her mare.

  “What is he doing cuddled up the competition?” Elizabeth demanded while carrying the supplies in.

  Charles looked at Cynthia with a bewildered expression.

  “The young lady that has David eating out of her hand is last years State Barrel Racing Champ and this year’s current leader.”

  Understanding came to Charles’s eyes as he looked from David to his sisters.

  Suzan, always the one with a quick tongue and a temper to match walked up and noticed the object of everyone’s attention.

  Cynthia saw her expression change and the sudden flare anger in her eyes. Before she could say any thing Suzan did.

  “Damn him, I thought we were a family, but as soon as David gets here, he has to run off after her like she’s a bitch in heat.” Suzan slammed her saddle down and stormed out of the barn in a huff.

  Elizabeth started to walk back to the truck, stopped and added her two cents worth. “Just because I didn’t say it, doesn’t mean I don’t agree.” She continued toward the truck, in a stance and stride that spoke louder than words. Several people moved out of her way and then turned to watch her as she left the barn.

  David walked up some time later with the attractive young woman hanging on his arm. “Hi,” he said in a voice full of exuberance. “This is Denise Miller, Denise this is my Dad and Mom, Charles Randall and my aunt Cynthia.”

  They shook hands, David turned to his sisters and paused noticing the hostility they expressed in the way they stood with hands on their hips, feet spread apart.

  “These lovely ladies are my sisters and my cousin Linda.”

  “I am glad to meet you,” expressed Denise. “David told me this is your first time competing in the senior division. I know you’re nervous just like I was, but relax and enjoy it.”

  “We’re going to look around for awhile,” David informed the girls. “Want to join us?”

  “You’re all invited over to my house for dinner. We’ll stop on the way home, pick up some steaks, and cook out tonight.”

  “Sorry Charles,” Ron apologized. “I’ve already made other plans.”

  “I need to
make sure all the tack is ready for tomorrow and take care of the horses,” David said.

  Charles and Howard looked at each other and then at the group as they walked away. Both men smiled, “You want to bet the tack never gets touched tonight?” Howard asked.

  “No thanks,” Charles laughed.

  “I’ll take you up on that bet,” interjected Cynthia. “I’ve got twenty that says he will, and just to be sure.” She picked up one of the spare bits and stuck it in her coat.

  Howard and Charles looked at each other and then back to Cynthia. “It’s a bet,” they said in unison.

  “We will give the girls some time to look around and than come over.” Howard and Sherry strolled off in the direction the others had taken.

  * * * * *

  As the girls were enjoying the hot tub, the steaks were cooking on the grill.

  Charles Sr. and Debra arrived.

  “Where’s Kristina?” Charles asked.

  “She said she had other plans, didn’t want to run over anyone’s toes with the chair,” Debra replied while giving Cynthia a big hug. “How are you doing Cynthia?”

  “Just don’t stand in her way to the bathroom if someone is cooking sausage or bacon,” Charles laughed.

  Cynthia stuck her tongue out at him.

  He turned back to the grill. I wonder if Ron and Kristina’s plans were the same.

  Debra looked at Cynthia and then to Charles. “Son,” her smile radiated her joy, “when are you going to make her an honest woman?”

  “I’m not.” He turned his head and watched a condemning frown appear on her face. “Cynthia is making me an honest man. She did the asking, I accepted.”

  Debra shook her head, a smile appearing on her face. “Honestly, you two.” She gave Cynthia a big hug. “Congratulations!”

  The hearty aroma of steaks cooked to perfection wafted on the cool night air. The girls’ hunger forced them out of the water.

  Soon after they were finished, Howard got ready to go. “Girls, you’ve a busy day tomorrow.” He gave them a warning look that stopped any further argument.

  “Appreciate the meal Charles.” He gave Cynthia a kiss on the check. “They serve breakfast at the arena for all the contestants and their families. See you there at seven.”

  “Nice evening,” Cynthia murmured as she snuggled up close to Charles, “and I know just the right activity to top it off.”

  Standing, she peeled off her shirt and watched the heat build in his eyes. Kicking off her boots, she dropped her jeans and strutted across the patio. With a suggestive quirk of her lips, Cynthia slipped into the hot tub.

  With an appreciative smile, he stood and followed, shedding his clothes on the way.

  The next morning during breakfast, Charles was enthralled over the family- like atmosphere amid all the cowboys and cowgirls.

  As they were walking through the stable area, Charles noticed several bedrolls rolled up lying in the stalls.

  “Several of the older contestants sleep here at night. The place has guards so it’s safe,” Cynthia stated.

  When they arrived at the stalls where the girls’ horses were Elizabeth and Suzan started preparing themselves and their horses for the day ahead. They petted and rubbed the horses noses, scratched their ears, all the while talking to them in soft soothing voices.

  David came over. “Dad I know we brought everything but I couldn’t find one of the bits last night.”

  “I’m sure it will turn up,” Cynthia asserted. “Why don’t you take Denise out for breakfast, here’s ten bucks, don’t spend it all in one place.”

  David turned and walked away scratching his head and looking at the ten dollar bill.

  Cynthia stood there with an I-told-you-so look and her hand out-stretched. “All right guys, time to pay up.”

  “We have a couple of hours before show time. Let’s look around ‘til then.” Cynthia tugged on Charles’s arm leading him to where the vendors and displays were set up. There were tables of leather goods, belts, chaps, fancy bridles, boots and hats of every description. Turquoise belt buckles, bolo ties and jewelry for the women. One vendor was selling skulls from longhorn cattle and another from buffalo.

  Cowboy art was everywhere, pictures of cattle drives, Indians, and branding of the herd. Paintings by the famous and the amateurs were side-by-side vying for attention from the crowd.

  Charles and Cynthia walked around the exhibits arm-in-arm, admiring a painting or commenting about the intricate workmanship of a piece of jewelry that had caught their attention.

  The viewing stands were starting to fill up. As they headed in to find a seat, Cynthia explained about this rodeo’s special difference. “The rodeo today pays very little in prize money and nothing in the state standings. Almost all the money raised at the gate and a large portion of that taken by the vendors is all donated to the fight against cancer. Everything is donated by business and local organizations around the Dallas-Fort Worth area.” Cynthia had teary eyes as she looked up into his face.

  “This all got started when a young cowboy developed cancer. After the family finances had been drained, several of his friends went to the association and the city. They found the initial sponsors, talked to the media and the ‘Ride for the Cure Rodeo’ became a reality.”

  The festivities started early for the riders with positions being assigned. Elizabeth and Suzan gave last minute rubdowns to their horses, talking to them in an effort to calm the butterflies that were fluttering around in their own stomachs. They looked down at Denise and waved. Yesterday, they had become friends while walking around the area looking at horses and the exhibits. It felt good to meet and talk with someone who had been so friendly. “I think David slept in the trailer last night,” whispered Suzan.

  “Well,” Elizabeth mused, “I bet he didn’t get cold.” Both girls laughed and mounted. It was time to start.

  With their hats on straight and sitting tall in the saddle, the contestants rode around the field for the grand parade. On the second pass in front of the grandstand, they all stopped and turned to face the judges. As the last note of the National Anthem faded from the speaker, a loud Texas yell resounded through the crowd. The riders all turned and, at a full gallop, rode around the parade ground and exited the arena. The Dallas-Fort Worth High School Junior Rodeo, Ride for the Cure, was underway.

  “What do you think?” Cynthia yelled above the noise as the riders left the arena. “To be quite honest, I have never been to a Rodeo in my life,” Charles confessed. “This is all new to me.”

  He saw the skepticism in her face. “Honest.” He held up his hand as if swearing an oath. “When I was their age, I was working in the summer and on weekends during school. I was lucky to even play football in High School.”

  “Well then, it’s about time you further your education with the fundamentals of Texas culture. Texas Jr. Rodeo class is now in session. Junior Rodeo events first started in nineteen forty-eight but it wasn’t formally organized ‘til nineteen fifty-two.”

  “Many of the professional world champions have gotten their start right here in the junior division. Most states have their own junior associations where local high school students can participate. The events and rules coincide with those of the American Junior Rodeo Association guidelines.”

  Charles watched her face light up and her eyes sparkled with intensity as she spoke.

  “There is something in junior rodeo for all ages, from the goat tying for the twelve and under to the steer wrestling and the bull riding for the older boys. It teaches them discipline, hard work and the spirit of competition. The roping events, as well as barrel racing and pole-bending, require considerable training. It takes a lot of dedication and hard work to even be good enough to consider entering an event.”

  “This first event is the goat tying,” explained Cynthia. “It’s for girls and boys age twelve and under.”

  “Why are the goats staked out on a rope?” he asked laughing at a young boy about eight years
old trying to grab an uncooperative goat.

  “The object is to see how fast they can put the goat in a hold and hog-tie it,” she laughed. “As you can see, it’s not as easy at it seems, especially if the goat is a bit billy-headed.”

  Charles laughed with her on her play on words, after all how could a goat be bull or pig-headed?

  He had to admit the youngsters gave it a good try, some being faster than others but all having a good time. A big smile from the contestant and a roar from the crowd accompanied every finished tie.

  Closing his eyes, he saw a young girl with long ponytails and dust on the knees standing over a hog-tied goat. All of a sudden, he got choked up and tears filled his eyes. The little girl, he saw in his mind, was their daughter. He drew Cynthia close and put his arm around her. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear.

  “This next event is for older boys. It’s called tie-down roping,” she hollered over the noise. “They must rope the calf and hog-tie in the least amount of time.”

  Charles watched as the event went on, amazed at the look of determination on the boys’ faces.

  “Although,” she continued, “these boys are competing against each other, the younger boys at this point are primarily competing against themselves and the clock. About the only time, you won’t see a happy smile at the end of a run is when he hasn’t done as good as or better than the last time. If they happen to place in the event, that’s just icing on the cake.”

  David was in this event; he had a good time of eight point one four five seconds. Good enough for second place.

  The next event, bareback riding, was announced, “This event is primarily for boys, although a few girls do ride,” Cynthia informed him.

  “And I suppose that you were one of the few that did?” he questioned.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I did, and I was quite good at it actually,” she bragged. “The whole point of this is hanging on. The rider must spur the horse past the point of the shoulder as he comes out of the chute.”