The rider took a moment to register that, then grabbed the tail of his rope, flipping it over his hand. Sadly, the bull didn't stop bucking at all. The moment his rope loosened, the rider was catapulted forward, head first into the dirt.
"Get up!" I yelled, rushing that way.
Isaac was already there. A smack on the rider's back showed him the way to go, and this guy actually listened. His hands and feet dug into the loose sand until he was upright and running. Between him and the bull, Isaac was jigging, making sure the rider was covered, but that left the animal free to go hunting.
So I shot right across its nose, patting the animal's head. "Ho!" I yelled.
"Ha!" Jorge called from behind it.
The bull turned, looking like he was going to charge me - and then just stopped. Breathing hard, the animal looked over its options, and then trotted away from all of us to the bull gate. As it passed Isaac, the rope slipped off.
"New guy!" Isaac called, snagging his gear and heading that way.
I watched as they shared a few words. The rider slapped Isaac's arm in appreciation and nodded a lot, but that was all I could make out. The gear was passed over, and the three of us shifted to the next gate.
"He doesn't speak much English," Isaac said. "He knows 'good' and 'thank you.' I got both."
"Nice," I said, watching for the next rider. "He's got a good seat, too."
"Yep," Jorge said, but the gate opening cut that conversation short.
Rider after rider, we worked the animals. I could feel a little strain in my muscles - especially my legs - proving I'd been on the sidelines too long, but it was nice. I loved doing this. It satisfied some primitive part of my brain or something. I didn't even know what, but it was the adrenaline rush I'd learned to love.
And yet, I didn't need it like I once had. For the first time in my life, I had a fallback plan. I had a happily ever after waiting for me, or so I hoped. As the first four riders came out in quick succession, I tried to decide which I'd rather have more. If I had to pick just one thing, then which one would it be, the PBR or a comfortable life with people I loved?
But Dean Jenning's words kept playing in my mind. Once, Cody's dad had said something to her about how bull riding was for now, and while it was amazing and wonderful, it wasn't the sort of thing that could last. Love was. Love was the soft place we could retire to when the injuries added up, making the pain of the fun hurt more than the ache of missing it.
No, those weren't his exact words - not by a longshot - but it was what he'd been trying to say. He'd been forced to pick between the rodeo and his child. Always, he made it clear it hadn't been a competition. His little girl had come first. She'd been the thing he wanted to spend the rest of his life consumed by.
But he hadn't wanted to give up quite as early as he had.
That was the thing I was feeling now. Yeah, I could walk away and be happy. I could give this shit up, settle down, and be a very content man. I also wanted to let it play out, enjoying every second of this wild ride I could, because being a bullfighter wasn't much safer than a bull rider.
As bull after bull came out, the three of us fell into a comfortable groove. A few weeks away from each other may have made us a little rusty, but we worked that out fast. Even better, when we picked up ropes and passed them back, the smiles and appreciation we got?
Yeah, those other guys had made a mess of this shit. Sonny, that new Australian rookie, had been shocked when I'd jogged over with his rope. He'd even apologized! But when I made it clear I'd been beside it, not a big deal, and all of that, it was as if some light bulb went off in the kid's brain.
But when Kaleb came out sideways? Yeah, we knew this was going bad from the first buck. Then again, Kaleb was a very inconsistent rider. When he did good, he did really good, but all too often, he made a mess of it, getting in his own way.
The bull spun, throwing Kaleb off balance. When it doubled back? The guy hit the dirt damned near under the animal's feet. It was the sort of fall that usually ended with a good stomping.
"Ha!" I roared, surging in to swing that bull's ass away from the rider beneath it.
"Forward!" Isaac yelled, telling me which way to go.
"Up, up, up!" Jorge ordered. "He's not moving."
Two bucks. That was all it took for us to realize this could go bad - and then fix that shit. I got the bull's attention and took off, but Jorge's last words made me look back...
The horns hit me in the ribs before my eyes could focus on the rider. Up. My feet left the ground, the lights went under them, and I knew I was tumbling through the air. I just had to make sure I knew where the damned bull was!
I slammed into the ground on my hands and knees, moving before the dust settled. The bull had swung around to charge me again. A spin got me out of its way. Isaac was flapping his hands to herd it forward - and thankfully, it actually went!
"Fuck, you got hit hard," Isaac said as he came to check on me.
But I pointed back at Kaleb. "He good?" I called to Jorge who was kneeling down beside him.
Jorge lifted his hand, thumb up. "Wind knocked out of him," he called back.
