And We Danced

by Toni Mari

  Cory showed me behind the scenes. We wandered around the paddocks and the barns. He showed me where they kept the broncs and bulls. They had chutes with gates that pulled up and slammed down to separate the bulls. Some led to the ring and some led back out of the ring. We couldn’t see the stands, but we could hear the crowd cheering. Doreen won the barrel racing event. Brandon and Len did well in their roping events, winning a bit of money for a third-place finish. We were close to the action as we watched from the entry gate. The sound of gravel hitting the gate as horses thundered past and the grunts of the riders and animals added to the excitement.

  The atmosphere at the rodeo was so different from my dressage shows. Dressage shows were quiet and sedate, the music playing in the background was soft and usually classical, and at the end of a test, the spectators clapped politely but were expected to be perfectly quiet when any rider was in the arena. This rodeo was exciting and fun. The crowd cheered for the riders loudly, and the riders rode hard and fast. The horses were bursting with energy but seemed confident and willing. I began to understand what Cory meant when he said I would know speed after attending a rodeo. No one walked their horses anywhere. The horses galloped all around, and when they were supposed to be standing still, they fidgeted and danced, and the riders didn’t even mind.

  “I have to ride now,” Cory said, “so I’ll show you where to sit. Do you want a drink or anything first?” Cory asked.

  “Sure.”

  As we walked to the snack stand, a little girl approached Cory. “Cory?” she asked shyly. She was about eight years old, and she was holding a stuffed horse in her arms. “Would you sign my horse?”

  How cute. He has his own fans from the rodeo. I smiled at the little girl.

  Cory bent down, taking the pen and horse from the little girl. “He looks like Jet. What’s your name, sweetie?”

  “Samantha, but you could write Sam. I got him ’cause he looks like Jet. I love Jet, but Mommy says I’m too young for you to marry me, and so I have to just pretend this is Jet, instead of the real Jet,” she gushed.

  Cory chuckled. “Well, darling, you sure are pretty, it’s my loss. Have fun tonight.” He signed the little horse. When he stood up, he shook hands with the mom and dad.

  “Thanks, Cory,” the dad said. “And good luck with Jet.”

  We continued on to the snack stand.

  “How cute is that? You have your own little groupies.” I punched his arm lightly.

  “Yeah, they just love Jet,” Cory said. He seemed embarrassed, shrugging his shoulders. “What do you want to drink?” he asked as a way to change the subject.

  Drinks in hand, Cory walked me to a section of the stands that was roped off near the announcer’s booth.

  “Do you mind waiting here while I ride?” Cory looked at me a little uncertainly. “I’ll introduce you to Laura. She’s Chet’s wife and really nice. He rides too. She’ll take care of you.”

  “That’s fine.” I wanted to watch, bronc riding seemed crazy. Who would want to get on a horse they knew they were going to fall off, even if they won? It would give my nerves a chance to quiet down after standing next to Cory all this time. My body was in a state of constant jitters.

  “Laura!” Cory called to a woman sitting with a young kid on each side of her. “This is my friend, Jane. Can you keep her company while I ride? She’s never been to the rodeo before.”

  Laura turned and gave me a speculative look. She smiled, slowly. “Sure, Cory, honey. You riding tonight?”

  “Just catch riding. No events,” Cory said for the tenth or twelfth time that night.

  “Chet will be happy about that. Go, I’ve got her.” She nodded Cory on his way.

  Cory turned to me. “Okay, will you be alright?”

  “I’ll be fine. Go. Ride.” I watched him walk away, taking an electrical force field with him. The air seemed stiller. I turned when Laura gently touched my arm. “Hi.”

  “So, how do you know Cory?” Laura asked.

  “We board at the same barn.”

  “Oh. What event do you ride? I used to do barrels, until these two came along,” Laura said, pointing to the two boys.

  “I do dressage, I don’t do western.”

  “Oh,” Laura said. She was quiet a minute, studying me. “Well, anyway. Let me introduce you to Brenda and Jill. They’re girlfriends of a couple of the riders and more your age. Trust me, you’d rather sit with them than me and these two wild Indians.”

  She got the attention of two girls sitting in the front row and motioned them over. “Girls, this is Jane. Brenda is on the right, and that’s Jill. Jane came with Cory but hasn’t been here before. Can you keep her company until he’s done riding?” she asked.

  “Sure,” Brenda answered. Both girls wore cowboy hats and boots. Brenda had blonde hair and a sweet smile. Jill had dark hair and was beautiful.

  Jill looked surprised. “She’s here with Cory? Cory Banks?”

  “Yes, Jill. Now be nice,” Laura warned. She laid her hand lightly on Jill’s shoulder.

  Banks. Funny that I didn’t know Cory’s last name till then.

  I followed the girls down to their front-row seats. The view was awesome. The fencing of the arena was only about fifteen feet away. I had an unobstructed view over the whole ring. At the moment it was empty between events.

  Once we were settled, Jill turned to me, curiosity burning in her eyes. “So, you’re dating Cory?”

  I shook my head vigorously. This didn’t count as a date. We were in a group, he had to ride, he was just being friendly. “No, no, no, no. We’re just friends; we board horses at the same barn.”

  Jill still acted amazed. “It’s just that we’ve never seen Cory bring anyone to the rodeo. We’ve seen him leave with a lot of different people . . . ,” she chuckled.

  “Jill, stop it. Be nice,” Brenda demanded.

  “Come on, Brenda,” Jill said defensively. “She said she’s not dating him. Cory’s a pig, don’t deny it. He’ll go with any girl who offers.” I clamped my mouth shut. A pig? Was she just being mean?

  “Well, yeah,” Brenda agreed. “The key phrase being any girl who offers. Wouldn’t any guy in his position?” Brenda turned toward me. “Girls throw themselves at Cory all the time. They can’t resist those baby blues,” she said with a shrug. “So, what event do you ride?”

  Oh my god! I was one of those girls, throwing herself at him. I was pathetic; he’s only seen me acting like a dope. What was I thinking?

  “I ride dressage, it’s like ballet on a horse.” I hurried to explain how I was not throwing myself at Cory. “Cory helped me with my horse when he had injured his foot. And he let me get on Jet because he says I need to learn about speed. That’s why I’m here. To watch and learn about letting my horse go fast. I have trouble with that,” I confessed. Clearly, I was not on a date. All business, me and Cory.

  “Cory let you ride Jet?!” Jill was shocked.

  “Well, yeah. Just for a few minutes. Teaching me how to gallop. That horse is way cool.”

  Brenda’s eyebrows shot up too. “Cory doesn’t let anyone get on Jet. Guys are always asking.”

  “She’s not a guy,” Jill stated flatly.

  Just then the loudspeaker crackled, announcing the start of the saddle bronc riding. “Okay, the boys are ready for our first rider tonight. Fasten your seatbelts! Here come the broncs!”

  A gate at the far end of the arena swung open, and Cory and another rider loped into the ring. Cory was mounted on a big-boned paint horse with a blocky head. The riders made a loop around the arena, and I could tell that the paint was not as athletic or well trained as Jet. Cory made him look smooth, though. He trotted him toward the stands. Cory looked toward us and caught my eye. With a smile, he tipped his hat to me. I grinned back and gave him a thumbs-up, hoping no one could tell that my stomach had just performed a triple flip. He was hot!

  “And she says she’s not dating him,” Jill muttered under her breath. But when I glanced
at her, she looked back and smiled.

  The announcer gave some background info on the riders and the broncs that were waiting in the chutes. Then, suddenly, he said, “Here we go!” A chute at the near end of the arena flew open. Out barged a strong-looking bay horse, his head already tucked between his knees as he bucked hard. He twisted and turned, leaping two and three feet off the ground. The rider clung to his back for a few moments, and then flew off, landed, and rolled. He didn’t make the eight-second bell.

  Cory galloped after the bronc, who was still snorting and bucking and galloping down the arena. The paint caught up to the bay and ran side by side with him. Cory leaned down, unfastened the buckle, and pulled the saddle off the horse. He then let the paint get ahead of the bronc and used the paint’s body to herd the sturdy horse back to the gate and out of the arena. Cory handed off the saddle to the cowboy, who was just getting to his feet.

  “He just did all that while galloping!”

  Brenda smiled. “Yeah, they all like it when Cory catch rides. He clears the ring really fast. It’s like he knows what the bronc is thinking. Keeps things rolling.”

  “Yeah, they also like it ’cause it gives someone else a chance at the money,” Jill clarified.

  I laughed. He must be very good at this stuff. I was free to watch Cory closely—he was in the middle of the ring, after all, and everyone was staring at him. In between bronc rides he stood with the other rider near the side of the arena. When it was time for action, he made the paint go from zero to sixty in one stride. He did everything as fast as possible. No wonder he was so relaxed on a simple trail ride.

  The two girls were really nice to me. They pointed out people they knew and told stories about some of the riders. The rodeo was really fun, and I was getting into it. I cheered the riders when they made the bell and felt bad for the ones who didn’t. I jumped to my feet and screamed with the rest of the crowd when a cowboy held out on a particularly rank bronc.

  Too soon, the last bronc rider left the ring and before long they announced the winner. There was a pause in the action while the rodeo hands loaded the bulls into the chutes. Into the momentary silence, the announcer said into the loud speaker, “Well, folks. While we’re waiting for them to set up those bulls, I’d like to introduce you to one of our homegrown heroes. We are proud to tell you that our boy has won the National Youth Reining Championship, qualified for the FEI World Championship Reining Team, and did you see his face on this month’s cover of the Western Horse? That’s right. I’m talking about Cory Banks! Cory, why don’t you take a victory gallop around the arena? That’s right folks, give that boy a hand!”

  The crowd stood, cheering and calling his name, as Cory galloped around the ring. I froze. The World Games? What was he talking about? Holy shit! Every tack shop carried the Western Horse, and I occasionally flipped through it myself waiting in line. No wonder everyone seems to know him. No wonder everyone listens to him. I watched him lope around the ring holding his hat with one hand, raising his fist in the air when someone yelled his name. He grinned and nodded to people in the crowd. Like a celebrity. Silly Jane. Scared to ride her new dressage horse. What did he call me that time? A snobby, rich brat. What was I thinking? My hand flew to my mouth—what did I call Jet that time? Cute? I had ridden a world-class horse and I told Cory he was cute.

  For the next hour, I watched Cory handle the bulls. They were different from the broncs, more combative. He had to herd them to the gate, and one time he roped one by the horns because it wouldn’t cooperate. I sucked in a breath when a bull nearly caught a fallen rider on the tip of his horn. At the last second, a rodeo clown distracted the brute. A couple times Cory had to pick up a fallen rider who just couldn’t get himself out of the ring fast enough.

  Cory was beautiful. I didn’t realize how riding could be so much more than sedate figure-eights in the ring. There was no battle for control over the powerful movements of the horse. Cory blended with the horse he was on. I was so dumb. I remember telling Kate that I didn’t want Cory near my horse, that I didn’t want some cowboy messing up my horse. Cory was way out of my league—as a rider, as a horseman, and definitely as a date.

  When the rodeo was over, the crowd stood up and filed out. Brenda and Jill said the guys would be a little while because they had to put away their horses. I wandered with the girls down toward the chutes and stood chatting with them. Sparkly Doreen joined us, again not even glancing at me. Whatever.

  “I’m going to hit the rest room. Be right back.” I didn’t need to stand around and listen to Miss Rodeo talk about her barrels.

  I took my time in the bathroom, washing my hands, retying my ponytail. I read some of the posters people had tacked to the walls advertising horses for sale or lessons. She must have been gone by then. I sauntered out of the bathroom and turned toward the girls. I stopped dead.

  Brenda and Jill were gone, but Cory was there, in a lip lock with none other than the glittering Doreen. My stomach turned sour. Doreen’s arms were around Cory, but his hung straight at his sides. His back was to me, so he couldn’t see me, but Doreen was looking right at me as she stood on tiptoes to kiss him again. He pushed her away and turned around as he said something over his shoulder to her. I was still looking at her smirky grin, so I didn’t react at all when he did a double-take the moment he saw me.

  “Hey.” My eyes swung to him. Suddenly, I was mortified. “Her congratulatory kiss.” He waved a hand over his shoulder.

  I took a deep breath. Remember, not a date. He could kiss all the rodeo queens he wanted to. This was not a date. “Hey, yourself.” I tried to smile, tried to look unaffected.

  He glanced behind him, but Doreen was gone. “Sorry you were by yourself all that time. Were you okay?”

  “Yeah, Brenda and Jill were very nice. They knew all about you.” I couldn’t resist. “Your magazine cover, your medals, your upcoming trip to the World Games. All I ever wanted to know about the famous Cory Banks and more.” Sarcasm dripped from my voice.

  He looked at me for a second. “It’s not like that.”

  “Really? I haven’t had a chance to catch up on my reading. What do you recommend? This month’s Western Horse, perhaps?”

  “I guess you don’t get that magazine. But I could sign one for you.” Cory tried to lighten the mood.

  “Forget it, let’s just go home.” Game over. Shaking my head, I swung around and started in the direction of the truck. The stands were abandoned, and the parking lot was nearly empty. I could see the truck and trailer under a single, lone streetlamp, and Len and Brandon were loading the horses.

  “Jane, wait.” Cory grabbed my arm.

  “No, it’s fine. I get it. I’m an idiot. I just thought for a second that we were friends. But you’ve got a lot more going on than our little barn.” I glanced away from him. “You were just being nice. I get it. Big superstar, not interested in the girl at the barn. It’s fine. We’ll still be friends.”

  “You so don’t get it at all!” Cory exclaimed. “I am way interested.” Then he leaned down and kissed me. I stood still, so he slid his arms around me and pulled me in closer. His lips were magic, and I put my arms around his neck and began to kiss him back. Cory deepened the kiss and ran his hands down my back and over my butt. He squeezed and pressed against me.

  Oh no. It was just the end-of-the-night hookup. I shoved him back and wrenched away. “Stop! I’m not like that! I’m not going to do it right here on the grass with you!” I hissed. “I’m not one of these girls that fall at your feet.” I think I even stamped my foot.

  Cory closed his eyes and took a minute to catch his breath. I wanted to punch him. I wanted him to kiss me again. Damn.

  “Jane.” He looked at me. I closed my eyes, shut him out. I didn’t want to hear him wheedle his way into my pants. I had dreamed of more between us than the normal teenage zipper battle. He took both of my hands in his. “Look at me.”

  “No.” I had made a fool of myself in front of him once again. I
just wanted to be home with my head buried under my pillow.

  Cory spoke softly, squeezing my hands. “I know who you are. You’re Jane. Incredible horsewoman. Loyal, generous friend. And hot, hot girl from the barn who makes my knees go weak just standing near me.”

  I slowly opened my eyes. “I make your knees go weak?” I whispered, not believing him. Man, that was a great line.

  Cory took one of my hands and laid it over his racing heart. “That’s what you do to me.”

  I felt his pounding heart beat; it was going almost as fast as mine. So, he wasn’t so cool and casual. That kiss wasn’t calculated; it affected him. I got all melty just thinking about that.

  But he had kissed Doreen too. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Sparkly Doreen probably gets your heart racing too.”

  Cory smiled, shaking his head. “Doreen doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

  I waited for the punch line. But Cory just stood there uncertainly, holding my hands.

  “Please.” He whispered.

  Please what? He leaned in slowly and pressed his lips to mine. He waited.

  I slowly relaxed and smiled. “Cowboys kiss better than jocks.” I wrapped my arms around him and plastered my lips over his.

  Chapter 22

  Powerful, majestic music boomed from the speakers in the indoor. Kate and I sat in the observation room with the door open into the ring. Sound wave bars flashed up and down on the screen of Kate’s laptop in time to the music. I closed my eyes and imagined trotting down the centerline on Windsong while this song played. I made a face. I wasn’t feeling it and I shook my head at Kate. “Not so much. Try another one.”

  The other day Kate had timed Windsong’s gaits. She had a program on her computer that categorized music by tempo. We were listening to different songs, hoping to find a few that we liked and could start to work with as we created my musical freestyle. She put on another pulsing classical piece. I closed my eyes again.

  “Morning, ladies.” At Cory’s voice my eyes popped open. I bit my lip as I sat up straighter in my seat. He slouched into a chair next to me.