She hung up the phone as her sister asked, “What’s wrong?”
Dani walked over to the dining table and sat down as she looked at Stephanie and said, “Momma said they got a call from somebody over in Northfield. They said Trey and Casey got into a wreck. One of them is dead.”
“Oh, my God!” Stephanie sat next to Dani and took her hands. “Are you sure? They don’t know who?”
“No, not yet,” said Dani. Her attention was drawn to the sound of an ambulance coming down the road, so both she and Stephanie ran to the front window where they watched a parade of police vehicles and ambulances race past the front of the house, sirens blaring. The horrible reality of her mother’s phone call came crashing down that instant because the scene in front of them left no doubt the emergency cars and trucks were headed to the wreck site.
Stephanie wiped a tear from her eyes. “What do we do?”
Dani looked at her sister and answered, “I told Momma and Daddy we would stay here and wait for them, so that’s all we can do.”
For the next hour, which seemed like an eternity to the sisters, Dani and Stephanie paced the house, waiting for the phone to ring or a car to pull into the driveway. Finally, they saw a pair of headlights coming back down the road. It was their father’s Impala. Both girls raced outside as the car pulled into the driveway. Dani was crying profusely as a combination of great relief and total despair overcame her. She looked into the back seat and saw her brother sitting by himself.
She would never forget the look of total shock on Trey’s face as he got out of the car, knowing right away their friend Casey was the one who had died in the accident.
* * *
Present Day
Dani found herself slumped down in the living room recliner, staring at the empty fireplace as she sobbed, haunted for the next thirty minutes as ghosts of memories past returned with a vengeance.
Finally, she pulled herself up out of the recliner and walked back to the bathroom. She gazed into the mirror, then started wiping tears from her puffy eyes.
She had always known a large part of her childhood dream to see the world with a rodeo superstar had died with Casey that night but, for the first time, it occurred to her that he might have somehow realized he didn’t have much time on this earth. That flash of insight brought about a certain peace. Maybe that explained why he did everything in his life full speed ahead, no matter what he was doing or how dangerous it might be. She hadn’t thought about Casey in months and, even though she had spent the last half-hour crying over his death, she felt as if she had let go of a heavy burden she didn’t even know she had been carrying.
Years ago, Dani used to think Casey would be her husband and a world-famous calf roper but, in the end, that same recklessness ended up killing him. Death seemed to be always close to him and she had concluded that, if his death hadn’t happened on that cold, dark farm road, sooner or later it would have happened somewhere else.
Dani firmly believed Casey was in heaven because he had been saved when he was eight years old, but it always seemed like the Lord had been trying to take him home ever since the day he was baptized. Casey almost drowned in the baptismal pool at the First Baptist Church in Tell. Dani laughed out loud at the memory. Her mood changed to one of peacefulness as the thought occurred to her that maybe God wanted Casey as Dani’s own guardian angel and he had been looking out for her ever since that fateful night, and just maybe he was in the heavens helping to align the stars to have Brandon show up in her life. No matter, though; ultimately, she knew the hands of fate were fickle and obviously had other plans for Casey, and for her.
She smiled as her thoughts drifted away from Casey and came back around to tomorrow, which would surely be the start of an adventure she would never forget. Brandon was just as excited about the prospects of running off with her as she was with him so, hopefully, this was how her life was supposed to play out all along. She smiled with hope that her future with Brandon would turn out far better than anything she could have imagined with Casey.
She sang to herself quietly, “I’m going to Hawaii” before she turned and walked back into her bedroom to pack her things for the wedding. Forty-five minutes later, she was lying underneath the covers, but sleep didn’t come for another hour. Excitement had replaced the feelings of dread and despair that had engulfed her such a short time ago, and tomorrow would open up a whole new world for her.
Chapter 4
“The Guy Who Invented The First Wheel Was
An Idiot. The Guy Who Invented The
Other Three was a Genius.”
―Sid Caesar
Fort Worth, Texas
Four years later, twenty-four-year-old Jake O’Brien used his forefinger to wipe white powder off the small mirror, then licked the finger clean as he retrieved his new belt buckle off the cluttered night stand.
“Damn,” he said reflexively. He had taken great care to slide off the king mattress and put his clothes on without turning on a light or making a sound, but the semi-darkness of the room caused him to accidentally knock over a couple of empty beer bottles crowding the lamp table. They clattered together on the way to the floor, then thudded on the plush carpet.
The buckle he was after was one of his two newest prized possessions and he wasn’t leaving without it, but it slipped out of his grasp and followed the bottles off the table top. It bounced once and came to rest underneath the bed he just snuck out of. He shook his head. “You dumb son of a bitch.”
An almost-empty bottle of Cuervo sat on the night stand, surrounded by abandoned Budweisers that weren’t the only ones strewn about the room. There were plenty more on the dresser, but he’d known last night he would sneak out this morning and shouldn’t have left the buckle in the middle of such a mess. “Lesson learned,” he muttered.
Now his getaway was foiled for sure. He went down on his hands and knees to reach underneath the bed as quietly as he could but, as soon as he had the buckle in his hands and raised back up on his knees, a young girl’s face appeared only six inches away, directly in front of his.
She lay on her stomach, pushing tangled, blonde morning hair back, and said with a sleepy, soft voice, “Where you going, honey? Are you running off on us?”
“Well…ah…I wouldn’t really call it running,” mumbled Jake.
“Sure looks like it from up here.” She looked disappointed.
“You see, I…I got a slight change of plans,” he said with a shrug.
“You told us last night you weren’t going to leave for a few days,” the girl reminded him, her face sulky. “You promised we were going to have a good time.”
Jake stood as he replied, “We did have a good time, didn’t we?” He gently touched her cheek as he added, “I know I did…did you?”
The girl looked away and rolled onto her back, exposing ample breasts before answering with a touch of anger in her voice, “Yeah, sure. I had a good time. Now I get to go home and spend the next day or two feeling like a cheap slut.”
Jake chuckled as he rose. “Honey, you shouldn’t feel that way. Sluts fuck just to fuck. I paid you.”
“You asshole! So now I’m just a whore!” yelled the girl. She grabbed an empty beer bottle off the nightstand and threw it straight at him.
Jake ducked as the bottle flew past his ear and shattered against the bathroom door behind him. Another figure in the bed stirred as Jake seized his black Stetson off the dresser and put it on. “Hold on there, sweetheart! I didn’t mean nothing by that, really.”
He ducked again as another bottle followed, narrowly missing.
“Hey, cut it out!” he said. He returned to the bed, sat down and grabbed her by both arms. “Listen to me. I meant what I said last night. I just have to run up to Abilene for a couple of days. I promise I’ll be back here with you two girls as soon as I take care of a little business.”
“What’s going on?” asked the brunette who poked her head out from underneath the sheets.
“Jake i
s trying to sneak out on us,” said the blonde. “Looks like all that talk of his last night was just a bunch of bullshit.”
“So?” asked the brunette.
“So it ain’t right,” grumbled the blonde.
“Lucinda, hear me out.” Jake tried to muster sincerity.
“I’m Marybeth,” corrected the blonde. She pointed to the brunette. “That’s Lucinda.”
“Yeah, right,” Jake shrugged, grinning. “Sorry. I knew that.” He grabbed a pen and piece of paper off the night stand. “What’s your number? I’ll call you when I get back in town. It’ll only be a few days.”
He could tell she was softening, and he added, “Come on, Marybeth, how am I supposed to get in touch with either one of you once I get back?”
“Same way you did last night,” said Lucinda, “Stop by the club. We’re always there.”
“Ah, come on,” pleaded Jake. “Give me your number, please. I really don’t want to leave this town without it.”
“Get serious,” said Lucinda, propping her head on her hand and rolling her eyes at him from the other side of the bed. “He ain’t gonna call you and he ain’t coming back next week, either. He’s a rodeo cowboy, for God’s sake!” She disappeared under the covers again as she added, “Quit throwing such a fuss and just let him go. Marybeth, you’re a stripper, for God’s sake, and I need more sleep. Checkout time ain’t until ten.”
“Marybeth…” Jake took both her hands in his. “I want you to know I had a really great time with you.”
“All good things must come to an end,” Lucinda muttered from under the covers.
“I mean both of you,” said Jake, “and I can’t wait to get back here and pick up right where we left off.”
“You’ll be the first one that ever did.” Lucinda pulled the covers more tightly around her.
“Don’t listen to her,” Jake said. “I’m not like all those other cowboys.”
Marybeth pushed her hair out of her face once more before she replied, “You really mean it?”
“Of course I do,” he answered with a warm smile. “Now, come on, tell me your number so we can get this party started again as soon as I get back.”
Marybeth looked back and forth between Jake and Lucinda before she gave in. “Okay. But you better call me, you hear?”
“I can’t wait,” Jake said.
Two minutes later, he was completely dressed, standing at the door with his new prized possessions, a shiny new belt buckle in his left hand and his tie-down calf roping championship saddle thrown over his right shoulder. He used a finger to gently flip the underside of the front brim of his Stetson as he said, “Ladies, I very much look forward to seeing both of you real soon.”
“I hope so. I did have a good time.” Marybeth flashed him a hopeful but not completely confident smile.
As Jake opened the door to leave, he looked back, paused and shook his head as he said, “I gotta tell you, Lucinda…I mean, Marybeth, I’ll never forget the sight of you bent over this saddle laid out on the bed. That naked little behind of yours sticking up in the air was one of the prettiest sights I ever did see.” He winked as he added, “If I didn’t have to go, you’d be bent over it again right now.”
“Wow,” exclaimed Marybeth with a beaming smile. “That’s the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me.”
“Good Lord,” piped up Lucinda. “Would you just leave already?” Her head popped out as she sat up. “By the way, this time next year when you’re in town, I would like to get together again.” She smiled as she added, “Provided you win, of course.”
“Honey, I guess we have a date for next year then,” then added, “’cause I always win.”
“I’m sure you do,” said Lucinda with an admiring smile as she watched Jake close the door behind him.
Once outside, Jake stepped over to the room next door and banged loudly twice. “Willie! Get your ass out here! We got to go!”
“Damn. Hold your horses. I’m coming already!”
Seconds later, the door opened and his half-dressed friend stepped out into the gathering dawn. “You ever get up later than you say you’re going to?” asked Willie quietly. He took a moment to pull his boots on and finish buttoning his shirt before patting his friend on the back and adding, “If I was you, I’d still be in there with them two. You hit the jackpot last night.”
“Yeah…maybe, but it’s time to go.” said Jake with a sly grin. He looked at the piece of paper in his hand, rolled it into a wad and tossed it on the ground. “Let’s go. We got some ground to cover.”
“All right,” Willie said with a chuckle. “You’re the boss.”
“I ain’t the boss,” said Jake with a laugh, “but we are in my truck.”
“Same difference, ain’t it?” Willie asked as they descended the flight of stairs leading to the parking lot.
Jake answered with a laugh, “Maybe so.”
* * *
Upstairs in the room, both girls were quiet as they listened to the commotion outside. Lucinda listened as Jake’s boot steps descended the stairs, then said, “I bet that little piece of paper with your phone number on it didn’t even make it to the bottom of the stairs.”
“What do you mean?” asked Marybeth.
“I bet your boyfriend threw it on the ground before he got to the first landing,” smirked Lucinda.
“I don’t believe you,” said Marybeth, sliding out of bed. Quickly she had her shirt and jeans on and was standing barefoot outside watching and waving as Jake and Willie pulled out of the hotel parking lot. Only after Jake’s new, blue Chevrolet pickup and two-horse trailer disappeared from view did she turn to go back inside. As she put her hand on the doorknob, a small, wadded-up piece of paper caught her eye as a morning breeze gently rolled through the passageway.
In the room, Lucinda knew she had been right about the phone number, laughing when she heard Marybeth yell loudly outside the door, “Jake O’Brien, damn you! You’re a son of a bitch!”
* * *
Jake barely got his truck up to the 55-mile-per-hour speed limit as he headed north out of Fort Worth on Texas 287 when he looked over at Willie and said, “Why don’t you reach in the glove box there and pull out that box of whacky-tobacky for me.”
“Damn, Jake.” Willie Butler pushed the button on the glove box, allowing it to fall open. “You know it ain’t even seven o’clock yet. You want to burn some of this now?”
“Hell, yeah,” said Jake, smiling at his friend. “I had a heck of a day yesterday and I want to celebrate.”
“Well, if you ask me,” said Willie, shaking his head, “looks like you got plenty of celebrating done last night.”
Jake grinned from ear to ear. “You’re right about that.”
Willie set the small wooden cigar box in his lap, then opened it and grabbed a sheet out of the Zig Zag rolling papers box. In less than a minute, he’d expertly rolled a joint and was reaching into his pocket for a lighter. “How the hell do you do it, Jake?” he asked, lighting the joint.
“What do you mean?” Jake asked as he held his hand out for the smoke.
Willie exhaled before he handed the cigarette to Jake. “I’m talking about how you can go into just about any town in the country, beat the pants off every other roper there, then afterward go into any bar you choose and walk out with the hottest woman in the place.”
“Or women,” said Jake, winking as he took a puff.
Willie chuckled. “Yeah, yeah…or women. But, seriously, I want to know, how do you do it? How did you get to be so good at professional roping? You ain’t that tall, and actually you’re kind of a skinny shit. Hell, I’m always surprised at how you get that calf off its feet as easy as you do.”
Willie paused briefly as he stared down the road before continuing. “My reflexes are good, I can ride just as good or better than you can, and I feel like I’m better with a rope than anybody I’ve ever met. But I don’t get it. Hell, I won just as many events as you did when you were in high sc
hool and college, but now we both do it for a living. And when you really need it, and everything’s on the line, you always seem to be able get out there and get that calf down a half a second faster than second place almost every time. Really, how do you do it?”
Jake shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I’ve been pretty good at it all my life, I guess.” He handed the joint back to Willie as he added, “It’s probably because I started studying the great ones since I was old enough to get my old man to start taking me to the rodeos.”
“Studying who…and what?” asked Willie as he held in a breath of smoke.
Jake stared down the highway as if he was searching for the past, then he said, “Well, there was Olin Young, Don McLaughlin, Junior Garrison, Ronnye Sewalt, Gary Ledford and, of course, Caleb Harrison. They all had certain things they did a little bit better than other guys. My dad and I studied them all.”
Willie exhaled a large cloud of smoke. “I remember hearing a lot about your dad when I was just a runt,” he said. “Word was Patrick O’Brien was a hell of a roper.” He handed the joint back to Jake. “He ever win a championship?”
“No.” Jake sighed. “He won a few saddles here and there, but never a gold buckle.”
Willie thought for a moment, then asked, “Well, I know all about most of those other guys you mentioned, but who the hell is Caleb Harrison? What championship did he ever win?”
Jake took a hit off the joint. “He was in the finals back in ’62, but he didn’t ever win a gold buckle.” Jake held his breath as long as he could before he exhaled and handed Willie the smoke. “Let me tell you something about Caleb Harrison, though,” he said, “that guy changed calf roping forever.”
“How’s that?” asked Willie before taking a puff. “What the hell did he do that was so important?”
“Now, see here,” said Jake, pointing his finger at Willie, “maybe if you knew things like this, you’d do better at the end of every round. Maybe you’d finish in the money a lot more often.”
A seed in the joint Willie was holding suddenly exploded, causing hot ashes to fly all over his lap. “Son of a bitch!” he yelled, frantically wiping the glowing embers onto the grey rubber mats on the floor of the truck. He rolled down the window and tossed what was left of the joint out. “How the hell would me knowing anything about some fellow named Caleb Harrison help me make more money?”
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