Except Cassidy wasn’t expecting Kevin to take her up on the offer and was surprised when he did. After all she had to ride in five minutes. “You know,” he began as he folded his arms over his chest, “I was starting to feel a little less mortified about your presence in my life.” He pointed at her and snapped his fingers. “So, don't screw up out there and get yourself hurt.”
Cassidy eyed him for a moment. After getting demoted to embarrassed she was back to mortified, that was a bummer. But rather than call him out on his choice of words, she decided that the proper response was to be touched. In his own lopsided way he was telling her he was concerned.
Given Kevin’s reservations, Cassidy wondered if she should compete today. Would it spare his feelings? Probably not, he would just find something else to be upset with her about. She finally had a chance to ride with the men. To prove to her brother and everyone else who doubted her, she was as good as them. She wasn't going to screw this up and Kevin didn't have to worry.
After working all that out in her mind, she started to climb the fence. Then, she threw her leg over the rail. “Kevin,” she directed, even mortified he could still help her, “Get Daisy's attention while I climb on.” Usually the cowboys assisted each other in the chutes, but none of the men were willing to help her. Hopefully with time, they’d get used to her presence at the rodeo and that would change.
Matt Dillinger, the bull's owner was standing nearby watching Cassidy's unconventional mounting method. Since Rachel had worked with Dillinger on animal rights issues, Cassidy knew he'd call her out if she treated his bull badly which she didn't have any plans to do. She was using a properly padded rope.
“I think you're going to need help tying that rope,” a voice Cassidy knew intimately yelled at her. No, it wasn't John Risk—thank goodness, because she refused to think about him and what they did in his room earlier that day. It was someone even better than John when it came to bull riding. “We don't want anything to happen to Mr. Dillinger's bull.” Logan tipped his hat at the man and Dillinger nodded back.
“Hey, Logan,” Kevin shouted as Daisy snorted and pawed at the ground. “How do you get a bull’s attention?” Even though he wasn't happy with all this, Kevin was genuinely trying to help. Cassidy appreciated the effort.
“Step back, Kevin,” Logan directed using his best John Wayne voice which Cassidy never liked. But at that moment, she really didn't care how her brother talked, because he had gotten over his prejudice concerning her riding with the men. “I'll take it from here,” he told the boy.
Cassidy smiled as she hovered above Daisy Rose. Finally, she was in good hands. Well, except for John's hands that afternoon, but again she wasn't thinking about that. Plus it sounded weird in relationship to her brother.
As soon as Logan got the rope in place she would ease onto Rose's back. First her knees, then she’d slide her legs down until she was straddling the animal. Sort of like she'd been straddling John earlier in the day.
Damn it, she'd be riding a bull is less than four minutes. Why did she keep thinking like that? She was pretty sure the cowboys didn't contemplate sex before their eight seconds in the ring. She glanced at Logan, then again maybe he did.
Daisy Rose kicked the gate again pulling Cassidy's thoughts away from her afternoon of delight. Dear Lord, the animal was strong. Cassidy looked down and watched the muscles roll and bunch on its back. Panic was a word that applied to women like Ms. Goodwin and that buckle bunny Kelly Proctor, restrained alarm was the best way to describe the way Cassidy was feeling.
She could control this. She had to control this. She just needed to get her mind off sex. But not just any, old sex—earth shaking, heart pounding John Risk lovemaking.
“Careful with those spurs,” Logan advised with a glance at Mr. Dillinger. Rachel and the baby had joined the man. All three were watching closely.
“I know how to get on a bull,” Cassidy snapped at her brother. Yelling at Logan or any of her other brothers always made her feel better. He needed to understand she was up against a lot here and she didn't want him questioning her every move. Justifiability, he got his back up.
Logan looked at her from under the rim of his cowboy hat. “Do you want my help or not?” He started to climb down the rail.
When they were teenagers Cassidy would have said no. Thrown a few cuss words his way, maybe even kicked some dirt on his boots and walked off. All those actions completely against her best interests—even considered careless. But now they were adults and Cassidy had learned impulsive behavior didn't get one very far, she decided not to escalate the argument. She just wished she had remembered that hard earned lesson a few hours ago, maybe she wouldn't have had unprotected sex.
Before Cassidy had a chance to chastise herself again for sleeping with John in such a dangerous way, he showed up. He smiled and shook Dillinger's hand but ignored Rachel. “Make sure you get that rope tight,” he told Logan stepping up to the chute. “We don't want the lovely Cassidy Cooper breaking any of her assets out there.” He squeezed Cassidy's arm.
“Which assets of hers are you referring to?” Logan asked John suspiciously. For a moment he stopped tying the rope and studied the preacher. “I didn't think assets like hers interested you,” he added.
“It would be her unique individuality, intelligent banter, and playful personality.” John said all this without hesitation, plus he added a smile. He wasn't rattled by Logan's conjecture. Then he winked at Cassidy, adding fire to an already smothering flame.
Logan's eyes shifted between Cassidy and John.
Cassidy could feel her face grow hot and quickly pulled her attention away from the preacher with the sexy back side. Instead, she looked at Rachel who nodded encouragingly. Cassidy could do this. She knew she could do this. She just had to get her mind back on the bull riding. She glanced at the clock, three minutes until her ride.
But her brother, who seemed to have forgotten all about the animal, stood to his full height on the rail. He pushed his hat back as he looked down at John. “I know what you two are doing,” he said loudly. “You're flirting with each other which is completely inappropriate at this time and place.” He put his hands on his hips and told Cassidy. “I've done a lot of stupid ass things before my eight seconds in the ring, but never that.”
“We are not,” Cassidy protested. Then she decided her objections were meaningless. She pushed on Logan's shoulder. “Get that rope tied and stop looking for things that aren't there.” She could hear the crowd stomping their feet. “I've got to ride,” she told her brother. Ten thousand people were waiting for her, the biggest crowd ever.
John threw her an air kiss over the top of Logan's head.
Cassidy gave him the finger.
“Jesus H. Christ, Cassidy,” Logan said not missing a thing today. The man must of had a good night of sleep and eaten his Wheaties in the morning. “I've never seen you give a guy the bird unless you're got feelings for him.” Logan swore again. “You're going to get hurt if you keep this up,” he warned pointing at John. “He's not worth a broken ankle or cracked ribs.”
“And this is my life,” Kevin told anyone who would listen. “Most self-respecting teenagers would be mortified by all this, wouldn't they?” At the same time Kevin was moaning about the disgrace his existence had become, the announcer was saying something about a female in the house tonight. His words rolled off his tongue in a used car salesman sort of way.
Cassidy needed to get away from her whiny son, obnoxious brother, righteous sister-in-law, and inappropriate on too many levels to think about, ex-boyfriend. Even if it was only for eight seconds, she needed the break to clear her head. She eased herself down onto the bull. Daisy Rose shifted his weight as she centered her hips behind the animal’s shoulders.
“Watch those spurs,” Logan warned. “You'll send this critter running into the next state if you poke him in the chute.” Logan held up the end of Cassidy's bull rope. “Warm the rosin,” he directed her. Cassidy rubbed her gl
oved hand up and down the cord.
Kevin moaned, “Jesus, Mom, could you just stop?”
Cassidy ignore him and refused to let her eyes drift toward John. Too much insinuation there.
Logan pulled the rope tighter and Daisy pressed her left flank against the rail squashing Cassidy's leg. It hurt but Cassidy breathed through the pain. Getting out of the chute was sometimes the toughest part of the ride and today it was particularly excruciating.
“Keep your fingers parallel with his backbone,” Logan directed as he pressed the rope against the animal. Cassidy placed her hand into the handle, palm facing upward, pinkie along the bull's vertebrae exactly the way Logan told her.
“Stay in your seats, folks, no going out for concession because we've got ourselves the first girl bull rider in the history of the rodeo,” the announcer announced. His voice reaching every nook and cranny of the arena, the people in the parking lot could probably hear him.
“I'm a woman,” Cassidy muttered. It was going to be an uphill battle to make the rodeo more user friendly for everyone to participate she reminded herself. After a tug on the rope and a nod of her head at Logan, Cassidy signaled the gate man.
Daisy Rose crashed out of the chute with a roll to the left and a buck to the right. Cassidy gripped, twisted, turned and tried to keep her hips even and left hand in the air. But before she knew it she landed on her back in the dirt with Daisy's rear hoof inches from her forehead. Then his huge head, rose colored horns and all, came down almost goring Cassidy in the stomach. But she was able to roll over and do a fast crawl away from the animal's deadly dance.
When she got to her knees, she realized the crowd was laughing at her and the announcer was saying something like, “Every bull rider has an embarrassing fall once in their career. It's part of the sport.” Again, his voice reaching out into the parking lot. The rodeo fans continued to laugh, even little girls and elderly ladies. “Let's give Cassidy Cooper a hand,” he suggested. “This is her first time in the big league and it's too damn bad she had such an unfortunate wreck.”
Cassidy didn't know what he was talking about. Why was he calling it a wreck? Yes, she fell and that stunk, but all bull riders fell and she knew she had another chance. In the scheme of things, even though she broke her own personal record, it wasn't terrible because she wasn’t hurt.
Still on her knees, she wiped at her nose and mouth with her sleeve. Then, she looked to Mike Shannon, the bull fighter, for an explanation. He stood over her and made no effort to help her up. A lot of the time he helped the guys. She didn't understand what was going on because the crowd was still laughing.
“You're pants are split up the back,” Mike told her.
“What?” Cassidy mouthed. She could feel her neck strain as she tried to hear him.
“Your ass is hanging out,” he scolded. “There's no place at the rodeo for a woman who wears a pink thong.” He looked disgusted with her.
Cassidy threw her hands over her backside, which made the crowd laugh even harder as she pulled herself to her feet. She tried to keep her knees and dignity together while she walked to the fence. This was so far from the way she dreamed this ride would end up she couldn’t comprehend it. Wrecking she had considered, but the split pants she never thought of.
“You know,” Mike Shannon was saying walking alongside her, speaking above the roar of the crowd. “Me and the boys,” he gestured toward the other bull fighters with their painted faces standing along the fence, waiting for the next rider, Daisy Rose had already gone into the chute, “we don't like risking our lives for this game you insist on playing.”
“It's not a game,” Cassidy replied tightly. The crowd started to throw french fries at her. Then a cola cup hit her in the head. Oh no, she didn't want the pictures from her first ride in the men's division to show her with ketchup and cola in her hair.
As she got closer to the gate, John ran out with his jacket. She eyed him as he wrapped it around her waist. Honestly she didn't want to hear a word from the man. Not one judgmental, critical, condemnatory word. In the past, when she made mistakes, he was pretty good at piling it on. That scene he made in his hospital room back in L.A., after she had compromised his cover, was still fresh in her mind.
“Sorry,” he said gently.
She stopped. She was still in the ring, she was still getting pelted by french fries. Similar to when he said he loved her that afternoon, she wasn't expecting this from John. “Sorry,” she repeated. The next bull rider was being announced so the crowd had pretty much stopped laughing at her but Mike Shannon was still trying to shoo her out of the way.
“Thank you, Pastor John,” the announcer called over the PA system. “We've got a good man looking after our spiritual and physical needs here at the rodeo.” He added, “Could everyone please stop throwing french fries at Cassidy Cooper?”
“Sorry,” John said again. “That must have been tough,” he added. By this time they were out of the ring. A few cowboys patted Cassidy on the back and said, “It's happens to the best of us.” While others pointed at her and laughed but she didn't care. She was still focused on John.
“What are you sorry for?” she asked trying to look into his eyes. The glare from the arena lights and getting shoved by the people around them was making it difficult. But she wasn't going to give up. John Risk was never sorry about anything. Maybe he was saying it in his role as Pastor John because people expected it of him. Or maybe he was saying it because he’d seduced her that afternoon.
“I'm sorry you fell off,” he answered. “And, I'm sorry you're pants ripped.” He took a deep breath. “I'm sorry everyone laughed at you.” She finally got a good look in his eyes, like earlier in the day there was kindness there. “And, you got showered with french fries, that must have hurt,” he added.
Before she had a chance to reply, Kevin was at her side. “I want to officially say,” he announced to her and anyone within a five mile radius of his voice. “I'm even more mortified by you than I've ever been in my entire life.” His hand sliced through the air in a chopping motion before he turned and walked away.
“Don't listen to him,” John advised, “he'll get over it.” John wrapped an arm around Cassidy's shoulder. “Let's go find you a new pair of jeans,” he suggested. “You need to get ready for the next round.” He kissed her on the forehead.
Cassidy stopped walking. “I don't know if I should ride,” she told him. “My kid thinks I'm mortifying and nobody wants me out there.” She picked a french fry out of her hair. “You should have heard what Mike Shannon said to me.”
“Nobody wanted you in the undercover unit,” John told her as he peeled half of a hot dog bun off her chest. “But you joined anyway,” he suggested.
That was true. Cassidy had elbowed her way into the Criminal Investigation Unit. Also known as the CIU. Many had booed and laughed at her at the time. But she showed them how good she was and they stopped.
“You're not a quitter,” John whispered. Then he walked away. Hot dog bun in hand.
****
When John found Cassidy an hour later she was sitting on a bale of hay beside the stall of the bull she was riding in the next round. Logan was pacing in front of her, while Rachel stood to the side holding the baby. John nodded at Logan and tossed a pair of jeans at Cassidy. He'd also found a ‘more appropriate’ pair of underwear for her after he broke into her room and he dug through her suitcase.
Both Rachel and Logan raised an eyebrow when he pulled the white granny panties out of his pocket. Jesus H. Christ, the bare boycotter and the carousing cowboy had no right to judge. Maybe those two were reformed since having the baby, but they'd participated in plenty of ‘consequences be dammed’ behavior back in the day.
“Where'd you get those?” Logan wanted to know in that big brother tone of voice of his.
But John was having none of that because he was probably a few years older than the cowboy. And, where the hell did the guy think John got them? They were decorated with pi
nk flowers and obviously Cassidy's.
“From my suitcase.” John shot back not sounding like Pastor John at all. Honestly he was getting sick of playing the part in front of Cassidy. She knew him as a guy who took little to no guff.
“I know you're being funny,” Logan started, “But I also know you don't wear—”
Cassidy stepped around her brother. “Thanks,” she said to John while giving Logan a dirty look. It was good to see she had recovered somewhat from that fiasco in the ring. She pulled the underwear out of John's hands and stuffed them in her pocket
“I want to know where you got them.” Logan asked John again. “You didn't go into Cassidy's room—”
“I like to wear flowery underwear and size six jeans so I happened to have a pair lying around,” John interrupted. “You got a problem with that?” he asked. Cassidy chuckled while Kevin appeared out of the shadows and muttered something about John being gross.
“I knew he was a deviant,” Logan announced. He stepped up to John. Toe to toe. “You're just not right in the head,” he decided. “Calling Rachel all those terrible things and then carrying around women's underwear in your coat pocket.”
“He went to my room,” Cassidy explained wearily. “And got them out of my suitcase. He was doing me a favor,” she told her dense brother. Or maybe the man was looking for a fight.
“How the hell did you get into her room?” Logan demanded to know. Jesus, the man was in a mood. Maybe he was rattled by what happened to Cassidy in the ring. John was certainly feeling concerned about it too, that crowd got way too aggressive. Then Logan turned on his sister. “You lock your door, don't you?”
“Of course I do.”
“I didn't know our rodeo minister had a key,” Logan shot back.
“He doesn't,” Cassidy yelled at him.
“Then is he trained in breaking and entering besides the scripture?”
“No, he's not,” Cassidy cried.
This was certainly getting out of hand and before John had a chance to explain again Kevin stepped forward. “You broke into our room. What about my computer?” he demanded to know. He was in John's face, chest puffed up like a roster.
The Bull Rider Wears Pink Page 10
