Back in the Saddle (Jessica Brodie Diaries #1)(20)

“Yeah, right! I don’t have the body for that!” She smoothed her shirt over her D-cups.

“Shut up, Candace! You could totally rock this. Get some confidence and you are golden. I need to go shopping out here anyway—you should come.”

“Okay, that sounds fun. I know some great places. And the outlet mall isn’t too far from here.”

My eyes lit up at the mention of the outlet mall, but I let the matter drop to spare the boys in the car, who were currently silent, probably rolling their eyes.

About half hour later, we arrived at what looked like a small scale fair, and a large scale petting zoo, combined into one. As we went through the entrance, which cost $15, there was a small Ferris Wheel off to the right with a few other mechanical things for people not wearing white. To the left was a large building with a pig in an enclosure out front. Ahead of us stood the back of towering grand stands and a crowd of people mill-and-flocking around. I took that to mean we got here before the activities started.

We wound our way through beer and food vendors—it smelled delicious—and off to the right. Before we got to the kiddie rides, we veered back left, heading around an open area that must house the event.

That’s about when I noticed all the horses. They were everywhere! Tied to trailers, to fences, led around, ridden! It was like a real-life Western! And guess what came with horses? Horse poop. I started looking down as often as up.

We rounded a corner through the make-shift horse village and I got my first glimpse at what the stands were looking at. Nothing. Caged nothingness. A big, open, oval, dirt area. That’s it.

The expanse of circular dirt was enclosed by a white, metal gate made out of piping. Or, at least, that’s what it looked like. At the back end stood a solid structure, interrupting the gate and housing an electronic sign, similar to a basketball score board. Along the metal gate ran various colorful banners for local businesses.

We walked on until we joined a crowd of onlookers. Weaseling between them, I got a chance to see what everyone was so interested in. Bulls. Lots and lots of bulls. Large, brooding animals with bent heads, flaring nostrils and giant testicals. Sometimes with evil, hard, and jagged horns adorning their blunt heads.

It was a sight to see.

The beast closest to me faced the crowd. Its shoulder to about my chest, the monster looked through his enclosure with a confident, hostile gaze, daring anyone to come within its territory.

I took a step back.

“Hey Jess, how you doin’?”

Phil stepped beside me--he'd come in the other car. About my age with a blond ponytail, I didn’t mind talking to Phil. He was a bit slow, due to large amounts of a green bud, but still a decent sort of guy.

“Oh hey, Phil. Pretty good. How are you?”

“Doin’ good. Doin’ real good. You excited for the rodeo? First one! I just can’t believe it.” He looked at me with a hazy smile. Definitely a stoner.

I laughed. “Yes, I am ready to lose my rodeo cherry.”

Phil’s eyes flashed and his face lit up in a hopeful expression.

John Paul chuckled, stepping beside us. “Easy boy,” he said, looking around me to meet Phil’s eyes. “With all her options, being the closest doesn’t give you precedence. Besides, you move so slow you could watch paint dry--gotta be quick for the Californian!”

John Paul aimed a playful punch at Phil, who surprised me by ducking and weaving, firing back a quick retaliation.

“Boys!” I yelled in equally good humor. “I might be the oldest one of you two, but I am no babysitter.” I pushed them both away.

“You ain’t older’n me,” Phil said, stepping back in close. Possibly a little too close.

John Paul raised his hand. “Guilty. You are ancient.”

“Oh, nice J.P.!”

John Paul looked mildly shocked with my choice of nickname, but not displeased, which was a green light to keep using it. It was a fleeting thought. We were in the middle of the burly animals now, all uncommonly still.

I felt my mind hush, watching them as they were watching me.

Why were they so still? Were they plotting something? They had a bunch of people roaming around and staring at them. Their new territory was sometimes shared with another dude. I didn’t know bulls, but I did know dogs and men, and both would’ve been barking or fighting. Usually both.

The lack of movement made me nervous. Standing amongst these brutes was not smart. I could tell.

Lifting my gaze to take in the whole scene, I noticed, at the other opening to this mess of animal testosterone, stood a cowboy with an ass that would not quit! He stood with his arms folded, inspecting a group of five giant bulls. They, too, were still. In evil repose.

Groping that cowboy's ass with my eyes, I couldn't stop myself from a distraught sigh when he dropped his hands to his sides and turned in the opposite direction. Before he disappeared out of sight, he threw one final glance at those bulls, allowing me to get a peek at his face.

A shot of pure adrenaline pierced my gut and electrified my heart, spreading out to my limbs. My fingers tingled and toes went numb. I couldn't breathe. I nearly peed myself.

Apollo!

Like a dumb girl, my knees gave out and I missed my step. I kind of tilted and half fell into JP, who was not ready for my weight. He grabbed me as he stumbled toward the nearest bull pen, headed downward.

“Jess—“ JP struggled with my clutching hands, needing my weight removed to stand on his own. But I was wearing white; him disentangling at that moment meant I would hit the dirt. Unacceptable.