3 Luke Ordinarily, he wouldnt have gotten involved. Hell, anyone who went to bars had been confronted with this scenario before, the events unfolding with an almost ridiculous predictability: a couple enjoying a night out, both of them drinking, when – no doubt fueled by too much booze – an argument begins. One starts yelling at the other, the other yells back, the anger escalates, and nine times out of ten, the man ends up grabbing the woman. By the hand, the wrist, the arm, whatever. And then? That’s where things got trickier. A few years ago, when he was riding in Houston, he’d been in much the same situation. He’d been decompressing at a local bar when a man and woman began arguing. After a minute or so, with their voices rising, it turned physical and Luke had intervened then, too – only to be turned on by both the man and the woman, each screaming at him to leave them the hell alone and to mind his own business. The next thing he knew, the woman was clawing at his face and latching on to his hair while he scuffled with the man. Fortunately, no real damage had been done – others had quickly intervened to separate the three of them. Luke had walked away shaking his head and swearing that from then on, he would stick to his own affairs. Hell, if they wanted to act like idiots, why try to stop them? Which was exactly what he’d intended to do in this instance. He hadn’t even wanted to join the after-party in the first place, but he’d been talked into it by a few fellow riders who wanted to celebrate his comeback and drink to his victory. He’d ended up winning the event, after all – both the short go and the event total. Not because he’d ridden particularly well, but simply because no one else had completed his ride in the final round. He won essentially by default, but sometimes that was how things played out. He was glad no one had noticed his hands shaking beforehand. The tremors were a first for him, and although he wanted to believe that it was because of the long hiatus, he knew the real reason. His mom did, too, and she’d made it clear that she opposed his return to the ring. Ever since he’d mentioned the possibility of riding again, things had been strained between them. Ordinarily, he’d call her after he finished an event, but not tonight. She wouldn’t care that he’d won. Instead, he’d simply texted her after the event that he was fine. She hadn’t responded. After a couple of beers, he was only just feeling the acidic rush of fear ebb away. He’d retreated to his truck after each of his first two rides, needing to be alone and settle his nerves. Despite his advantageous standings, he’d actually considered forfeiting. But he’d crushed that instinct and gone back out for his last ride of the night. He’d heard the announcer talking about his injury and subsequent hiatus as he was getting ready in the chute. The bull he’d drawn – a rank bull named Pump and Dump – spun wildly as soon as he broke free, and Luke had been barely able to hold on until the buzzer. He’d landed hard after freeing himself from the wrap, but there’d been no damage done, and he’d waved his hat while the crowd roared its approval. After that came the backslaps and congratulations, and he couldn’t very well say no when so many people wanted to buy him a drink. He wasn’t ready to go home yet anyway. He needed some time to unwind, to replay the rides in his head. In his mind, he was always able to make the adjustments he hadn’t been able to during the ride, and he needed 53/414 to think through those steps if he planned to continue. Though he’d won, his balance was nowhere near what it once had been. He still had a long way to go. He was replaying the second ride when he first noticed the girl. It was hard not to appreciate the cascade of blond hair and deep-set eyes; he had the sense that, like him, she was wrapped up in her own thoughts. She was pretty, but beyond that there was something wholesome and natural about her appearance, the kind of girl who probably looked equally at home in jeans or a formal gown. This was no dolledup buckle-bunny, hoping to hook up with one of the riders. They were everywhere on tour and easy to find – a pair of them had sidled up to him in the barn and introduced themselves earlier – but he’d had no interest in encouraging them. He’d had a few one-night stands over the years, enough to know they inevitably left him feeling empty. But the girl on the railing interested him. There was something different about her, though he couldn’t pinpoint what. Maybe, he thought, it was the unguarded, almost vulnerable way she stared into the distance. Whatever it was, he sensed that right now what she really needed was a friend. He considered going over to talk to her, but he pushed aside the idea as he focused on the bulls in the distance. Despite the arena lights, it was too dark to make out all the details, but he searched for Big Ugly Critter anyway. They would forever be linked, he thought, and he wondered idly whether the bull had already been loaded up. He doubted the owner of the bull had planned to drive all night, which meant the animal was here, but it still took some time before he was able to locate him. It was while he was staring at Big Ugly Critter that the drunk exboyfriend had walked up. It was impossible not to overhear their conversation, but he reminded himself not to get involved. And he wouldn’t have, at least until the huge brute had grabbed her. By then, it was obvious she didn’t want anything to do with him, and when he heard the blonde’s anger give way to fear, Luke found himself pushing away from the railing. He knew his decision would probably backfire 54/414 on him, but as he stepped toward the two of them, he thought again of the way she’d looked earlier, and he knew he didn’t have a choice. Luke watched as the drunk ex-boyfriend stalked off, and he turned to thank his fellow riders for coming over. One by one they drifted away, leaving Luke and Sophia alone. Above them, the stars had multiplied in the ebony sky. In the barn, the band finished one song and eased into another, an older classic by Garth Brooks. With a deep sigh, Sophia let her arms fall to her sides, the autumn breeze lifting her hair gently as she turned to face him. “I’m sorry you were dragged into all this, but I want to thank you for what you did,” Sophia said, a little sheepish. Closer now, Luke registered the unusual green color of her eyes and the soft precision of her speech, a sound that made him think of faraway places. For a moment, he found himself tongue-tied. “I was glad to help,” he managed. When he said nothing more, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s… not always as crazy as you probably imagine he is. We used to go out and he’s not too happy I broke up with him.” “I figured,” Luke said. “Did you… hear everything?” Her face was a mixture of embarrassment and fatigue. “It was kind of hard not to.” Her lips tightened. “That’s what I thought.” “If it makes you feel any better, I promise to forget,” he offered. She gave a genuine laugh, and he thought he heard relief in it. “I’m going to try my best to forget all about it, too,” she said. “I just wish…” When she trailed off, Luke finished her thought for her. “It’s over and done, I’d guess. At least for tonight, anyway.” She turned, taking her time as she examined the barn. “I sure hope so.” 55/414 Luke’s feet scraped at the ground, as if trying to unearth words in the dust. “I assume your friends are inside?” Her gaze flickered over the figures milling around the barn doors and beyond. “A bunch of us are here,” she said. “I go to Wake Forest and my roommate at the sorority decided that what I really needed was a girls’ night out.” “They’re probably wondering where you are.” “I doubt it,” she said. “They’re having too much fun for that.” From a tree bordering the corral came the sound of an owl calling from a low-hanging branch, and both of them turned at the sound. “Do you want me to walk you back inside? In case there’s any trouble, I mean?” She surprised him by shaking her head. “No. I think it’s best if I stay out here for a little longer. It’ll give Brian a chance to cool off.” Only if he quits drinking, Luke thought. Let it go. It’s not your business, he reminded himself. “Would you rather be alone, then?” A look of amusement flashed across her face. “Why? Am I boring you?” “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not at all. I just didn’t want —” “I’m kidding.” She stepped to the railing and propped her elbows on the fence. She leaned forward and turned toward him, smiling. Hesitantly, Luke joined her at the railing. In the distance, she took in the view, appreciating the gently rolling hills common to this part of the state. Luke studied her features silently, noting the small stud in her earlobe, trying to figure out what to say. “What year are you in college?” he finally asked. He knew it was an inane question, but it was all he could come up with. “I’m a senior.” “That makes you… twenty-two?” “Twenty-one.” She half turned in his direction. “And you?” “Older than that.” “Not by much, I’d guess. Did you go to college?” 56/414 “It wasn’t really my thing.” He shrugged. “And you ride bulls for a living?” “Sometimes,” he answered. “When I stay on, that is. But other times, I’m just a toy the bull gets to play with until I can get away.” She raised an eyebrow. “You were pretty impressive out there today.” “You remember me?” “Of course. You were the only one who rode them all. You won, right?” “I had a pretty good night,” he admitted. She brought her hands together. “So it’s Luke…” “Collins,” he finished. “That’s right,” she said. “The announcer was going on and on about you before your ride.” “And?” “To be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention. At the time, I didn’t know you’d end up coming to my rescue.” He listened for traces of sarcasm but detected none, which surprised him. Hooking a thumb toward the tractor tire, he pointed out, “Those other guys came over to help, too.” “But they didn’t intervene. You did.” She let the comment sink in for a moment. “Can I ask you a question, though?” she went on. “I’ve been wondering about it all night.” Luke picked at a sliver on the railing. “Go ahead.” “Why on earth would you ride bulls? It seems like you could get killed out there.” That’s about right, he thought. It’s what everyone wanted to know. As usual, he answered it the way he always did. “It’s just something I’ve always wanted to do. I started when I was a little kid. I think I rode my first calf when I was four years old, and I was riding steers by the third grade.” “But how did you start in the first place? Who got you into it?” “My dad,” he said. “He was in rodeo for years. Saddle bronc.” 57/414 “Is that different than bulls?” “It’s pretty much the same rules, except that it’s on a horse. Eight seconds, holding on with one hand while the animal tries to throw you.” “Except that horses don’t have horns the size of baseball bats. And they’re smaller and not as mean.” He considered it. “That’s about right, I’d guess.” “Then why don’t you compete in saddle bronc instead of riding bulls?” He watched her brush her hair back with both hands, trying to capture the flyaways. “That’s kind of a long story. Do you really want to know?” “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” He fiddled with his hat. “It’s just a hard life, I guess. My dad would drive a hundred thousand miles a year going from rodeo to rodeo just to qualify for the National Finals Rodeo. That kind of travel is hard on the family, and not only was he gone almost all the time, but back then, it didn’t pay much. After travel expenses and entry fees, he probably would have been better off working minimum wage. He didn’t want that for me, and when he heard that bull riders were about to start their own tour, he thought it had a pretty good chance to be successful. That’s when he got me into it. There’s still a lot of travel, but the events are on weekends and usually I can get in and out pretty quick. The purses are bigger too.” “So he was right.” “He had great instincts. About everything.” The words came out without thinking, and when he saw her expression, he knew she’d picked up on it. He sighed. “He passed away six years ago.” Her gaze didn’t waver, and impulsively she reached out, touching his arm. “I’m sorry,” she said. Though her hand barely grazed his arm, the sensation lingered. “It’s okay,” he said, straightening up. Already he could feel the post-ride 58/414 soreness settling in, and he tried to concentrate on that instead. “Anyway, that’s the reason I ride bulls.” “And you like it?” That was a tough one. For a long time, it was how he’d defined himself, no question about it. But now? He didn’t know how to answer, because he wasn’t sure himself. “Why are you so interested?” he countered. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe because it’s a world I know nothing about? Or maybe I’m just naturally curious. Then again, I might just be making conversation.” “Which one is it?” “I could tell you,” she said, her green eyes seductive in the moonlight. “But how much fun would that be? The world needs a little mystery.” Something stirred in him at the veiled challenge in her voice. “Where are you from?” he asked, feeling himself being reeled in and liking it. “I take it you’re not from around here.” “Why would you think that? Do I have an accent?” “I suppose that depends on where you’re from. Up north, I’d be the one with the accent. But I can’t really tell where you’re from.” “I’m from New Jersey.” She paused. “No jokes, please.” “Why would I joke? I like New Jersey.” “Have you ever been there?” “I’ve been to Trenton. I rode in a few events at the Sovereign Bank Arena. Do you know where that is?” “I know where Trenton is,” she answered. “It’s south of where I live, closer to Philadelphia. I’m up north, by the city.” “Have you been to Trenton?” “A handful of times. But I’ve never been to the arena. Or to a rodeo, for that matter. This is my first time.” “What did you think?” “Other than being impressed? I thought you were all crazy.” 59/414 He laughed, charmed by her frankness. “You know my last name, but I didn’t catch yours.” “Danko,” she said. Then, anticipating his next question: “My dad is from Slovakia.” “That’s near Kansas, right?” She blinked. Her mouth opened and closed, and just as she was about to explain the concept of Europe to him, he raised his hands. “Joking,” he said. “I know where it is. Central Europe, part of what was once Czechoslovakia. I just wanted to see your reaction.” “And?” “I should’ve taken a picture to show my friends.” She scowled before nudging against him. “That’s not nice.” “But it was funny.” “Yeah,” she admitted. “It was funny.” “So if your dad is from Slovakia…” “My mom is French. They moved here a year before I was born.” He turned toward her. “No kidding…” “You sound surprised.” “I don’t know if I’ve ever met a French Slovakian before.” He paused. “Hell, I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone from New Jersey before.” When she laughed, he felt something relax in him, and he knew he wanted to hear the sound again. “And you live close by?” “Not too far. A little north of Winston-Salem. I’m right outside of King.” “Sounds fancy.” “That’s one thing it isn’t. It’s a small town with friendly people, but that’s about it. We have a ranch up there.” “We?” “My mom and I. Well, actually it’s her ranch. I just live and work there.” “Like… a real ranch? With cows and horses and pigs?” “It’s even got a barn that makes this one here look new.” 60/414 She surveyed the barn behind them. “I doubt that.” “Maybe I’ll show you one day. Take you horseback riding and everything.” Their eyes met, holding for a beat, and again she reached out to touch his arm. “I think I’d like that, Luke.”
Posted on: Mon, 21 Oct 2013 01:38:25 +0000
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