The food trucks were shuttered, as were the game booths, but when the show was open, food and drink flowed freely, and there were carnival games that included a pop-gun range and Whac-a-Mole.
There was a large fence painted with stars, stripes, and cartoon interpretations of the showdown in the street between Lee Talbot and Austin Wilder. There he was again on horseback carrying bulging bags full of money, along with a Western Union coach on the run, and some cheeky drawings of cowgirls that always set Jessie’s teeth on edge.
The fence served to hide all the RVs that were parked behind it; this was where the employees of the Wild West Show lived. It was a mini town in and of itself.
Their employees ran the carnival games, and some of them were also performers, playing small parts in various routines.
The more skilled performers had larger residences farther awayfrom the show itself. A few team members were literal acrobats, and while Jessie and West were pretty close, their expertise was in rodeo and trick riding.
The rodeo events were held sporadically, and there was a rotating roster of riders who participated in them. Their mom still did barrel racing, and some minor tricks, while their dad was the MC. He was the face behind the Wild West Show, the magnetic force that drove it all.
Like his father before him.
The center of the show was the massive arena, surrounded by bleachers, which they routinely filled, particularly during the summer. But even this time of year, they were busy.
In addition to the shows, games, and food, there were blacksmithing demonstrations around a forge, which was one of Jessie’s favorite jobs. It was how she’d gotten into doing farrier work on the side, another way she made sure they were able to pay the bills year round.
She was a Jill-of-all-trades, so to speak. But that was the life her family had always lived. A sort of patchwork existence requiring expertise in any number of random skill sets, most of them decidedly left of the mainstream.
All through the fall, they ran rodeo events, and then around Christmas there was always a seasonal performance. The weeks of January through February were pretty dead, but they were accustomed to that now and had figured out how to weather the low times, even if it meant some white-knuckling.
She parked right at the front gates, which she would never normally do, but this was just rehearsal, so no one else would need the space. She tumbled out and ran through the front entrance. West was already out on his horse, standing while the animal ran in a circle around the arena. He spotted her and jumped back down into a sitting position, using his upper body strength to keep himself from crashing onto the saddle and injuring both horse and man.
“Well, there you are, JJ,” her dad said. William Hancock was a mythical sort of figure. His large mustache was gray now, but hisfigure was still wiry as ever. His brows were dark slashes in his face, his eyes deep set and weathered. The cowboy hat on his head had a beaded band and cards from what he claimed was a winning poker game stuffed into it. His jacket was buckskin, with fringe hanging off the sleeves. Just right for when he spread his arms wide and welcomed everybody to the show.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said.
“As long as you were having a good time,” her dad said, a merry twinkle in his eye.
“Yes,” she said.
West had his arms crossed, and he was looking down at her from his position on the horse. “Were you?”
“Yep,” she said. “Late night, early morning.”
Her dad chuckled.
Not for the first time, she realized how weird her family was. Her parents, William and Lucinda, had always wanted to be friends with their kids. Not in the way that some parents tried to be, hoping to be cool. That wasn’t what it was about. They wanted to be close. In a way that they hadn’t been with their own parents. They wanted camaraderie. And they really wanted their kids to care about the same things they did. The show, the animals. And in truth, she and West both did.
But their whole existence was unorthodox.
She loved her parents, but in some ways, they were children. Which meant that she and West had to be adults. Her parents just wanted to have fun, but somebody had to keep things going. Another reason she was so good at wearing the particular mask she wore.
She also thought it was the reason she had some gaps in her résumé. The reason she was so good at so many things, and a whole lot less experienced in other areas.
“You need to rehearse the runaway horse routine,” her dad said, gesturing back toward the holding stalls.
“Yeah, I know.”
They were putting together a routine that made it look as if herhorse went rogue, and while it was running laps in the arena, she did a complex series of acrobatics, as if she was trying to stay on the horse, though of course all of it would be meticulously scripted and rehearsed.
West would, of course, do a savior routine, which Jessie had initially balked at. She objected that it was sexist, but her dad had pointed out that West wasn’t as agile on a horse, so he couldn’t do the acrobatics that she could.
In fairness to West, it was because he was six foot four. And while he was strong and could definitely hold his own in rodeo events and balancing acts, he wasn’t going to be hanging sideways off the horse or flipping himself upside down. Jessie wasn’t short, but at five foot seven, she was a lot more able to do flips and other impressive saddle tricks.
Privately, she thought part of the reason West didn’t want to do the routine was that it was too showy. Though he was happy to participate in certain aspects of the show, he was not in his soul a performer.
Bull riding and bucking broncos were another thing. He loved that. And he was always the house favorite during rodeo events, in which he often held his own against professional competitors.
