Valuable Lesson: Day 15

Word Total: 90,008

Year to Date: 480,142

Summary of Events:

Wearied by the exercising, Kingston didn't want to get out of bed and expressed doubts to Drew that the successes he was starting to see were going to actually last. Kingston went out on his first official date with Blair later that week, having dinner before watching the chuckwagon races and the fireworks. Wyatt informed Kingston that he was being his own worst enemy, having believed that now that he'd reached the professional ranks he didn't have to work hard anymore. Kingston, humbled by that point, kept on exercising — even working out with Drew — and made it all the way to the finals of the rodeo, where he got second place in the bareback bronc riding — which he wasn't as good at as the saddle bronc riding . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Once the dirt was loosened up again — and the intermission was over — it was time for the saddle bronc. The novices went first and their winner was decided, and then, once again, was the professionals.

With his eighty seven-point ride yesterday Kingston had been a mid-level qualifier, so he would be one of the later ones to go out, which allowed him to watch the first few rides, most of which ended with good scores, although one rider got bucked off.

On his turn Kingston got in the saddle and rode again as if the horse wasn’t there; he imagined he was doing the exercises, and in hardly a moment — or so it seemed — the ride was over.

Kingston clutched at his chest with shock when the score was announced: ninety two points.

He’d never gotten that high of a score in bareback or saddle bronc. Not ever.

His heart raced as he watched the remaining riders.

Drew rode well, but only got an eighty nine, and Royce — the reigning champion of the Ponoka Stampede, as well as the highest qualifier for the finals — finished with ninety.

It took a moment before Kingston reacted, crying out in astonishment before being wrapped in a bone-crushing embrace by Wyatt.

“I knew you could do it kid!” Wyatt yelled.

Back-slaps and congratulatory cries followed before Kingston went to get the cheque and champion buckle given to him. He hoped the photo they snapped wasn’t blurry, because he could tell he was still shaking from all the excitement and anticipation.

Once the presentation was over Kingston headed to get his saddle and take it — and his winnings — to the truck.

Partway there he was nearly bowled over by Blair, who kissed him passionately.

“You won!” she cried once the kiss was over.

Kingston nodded, he had no words.

“It was our date wasn’t it?” Blair asked.

“No,” Kingston replied.

“No?” Blair asked, looking surprised and mildly disappointed. “Then what was it?”

“I learned a valuable lesson Blair,” Kingston replied. “Whether I wanted to learn it or not.”

“And what was it?” Blair asked.

“If you really want something, you can’t ever quit,” Kingston replied. “Unless you achieve it, then you can quit if you want to.”

Blair smiled and kissed him again.

“I’m glad to have helped kid,” Wyatt said.

“I appreciate it,” Kingston said. “And I hope that’s the first and last terrible slump I have in my career.”

“Regardless, let’s hope it’s the worst,” Wyatt said.

“Yes,” Blair said emphatically. “Oh I’m so proud of you.”

Kingston smiled. There was no way he was quitting now.

The lesson had been painful to learn. It was hard to believe he could be his own worst enemy in such a subtly insidious way as becoming complacent, but Kingston was glad that Wyatt had possessed the stubbornness to teach it to him; and, even if he wasn’t going to tell anyone, he was grateful that someone had taken the time to care about him.

Next Post: June 1

Valuable Lesson: Day 14

Word Count: 84,013

Summary of Events:

Kingston and Drew were having an early lunch prior to the go-round — which ran in the afternoon — when Wyatt arrived; he stayed for lunch before taking Kingston to his house to show him what sort of exercises he needed to do to help him ride broncs better. The exercises left Kingston quite worn out, and he still had two horses to ride yet . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Kingston sighed wearily, watching as the horses were loaded into the chutes before getting up and going to gear up his horse. Now that everyone had ridden once they had scores and those scores were determining the order of who was riding when.

The riders yesterday that had been bucked off — only four — would go first in an order that’d been determined by their money earned on the season, and then it would go lowest score to highest, which meant that Kingston was the fifth rider out because his sixty seven was the lowest score in bareback yesterday.

Through a force of will somewhat inspired by Wyatt’s words yesterday Kingston had been able to get a sixty nine in the saddle bronc. Kingston doubted he’d really do all that much better today.

Three of the first four riders stuck their rides and got scores in the seventies — including Hayden, who’d taken to working out with Tanner shortly after their chat at the pizza place — the fourth rider, Brody, had been bucked off again.

Kingston felt badly for Brody, who looked more than a little frustrated. If this proved to work for him he might have to get Wyatt working on Brody too before Brody went and did something to get himself banned for the season.

Settling into position, Kingston hoped his arm wasn’t going to fall off from all the work Wyatt had put him through; in fact, Kingston just hoped that he didn’t fall off at all.

He nodded and the chute door flew open; the horse sprang out and Kingston held on, all of the exercises Wyatt had just taught him flying through his head — as were the exhortations Wyatt had given to him as he’d been doing them.

Kingston rode hard and was actually surprised and a little disappointed when the horn sounded. He could’ve sworn eight seconds had been a lot longer last night.

He safely dismounted the horse and left the arena. Wyatt was waiting for him with a smile on his face.

“You looked better already kid,” Wyatt said, putting an arm around his shoulders.

Kingston made to shift out from under the touch and go on to get his rigging, but Wyatt grabbed his shirt and stopped him.

“Let’s listen to the score,” Wyatt said.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Kingston said.

Wyatt shushed him.

“. . . is seventy five points,” the announcer’s voice rang out.

“See?” Wyatt said. “Better already, guaranteed you got equal to the horse on that one.”

“I thought you said it took multiple doses,” Kingston said.

“It does, kid, it does,” Wyatt replied. “But what good is the dose if it doesn’t have any effect? Sure we may not see it, but if the doctor probes deep they’d see an improvement like this.”

Valuable Lesson: Day 13

Word Count: 78,028

Summary of Events:

Kingston spent the drive to the next rodeo despairing that he'd ever be able to regain the success he'd had last season and contemplates quitting rodeo and going back to baseball, which he'd played as a teen. At the next rodeo Kingston's horse stumbles and he gets a re-ride, all the while contemplating how he'll go about officially ending his rodeo career and moving back into baseball — and wondering how he'll break the news to Blair. At the Ponoka Stampede later that week Kingston ends up talking to Wyatt McCoy, one of the most famed bronc riders in recent memory, who is upset that Kingston doesn't do much for training and refuses to let Kingston say there's no point in trying . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“You know the answer kid,” Wyatt said firmly. “You know what the point of trying is.”

“No, I don’t,” Kingston replied curtly, going to step around Wyatt.

Smoothly, Wyatt stepped in his way and grabbed his shoulders firmly. “I’ve seen that fire in your eyes, that near-primal desire to risk your life, in some ways, honestly, just for the thrill of it. You could’ve had a safe, secure job, but you chose instead to have this, and now you’ve gotten so deluded you think you’re going to be able to walk away from this and not regret it?”

Kingston’s chest tightened, tears threatened at his eyes.

“I know you want it,” Wyatt said. “You’re just trying to convince yourself that you don’t, you’re trying to convince yourself you’re doing the right thing in giving up, in quitting, in hanging up the spurs and the ripe old age of twenty. You think if you say it isn’t worth it enough the statement will become true, but you know it won’t, you know that you’re never going to be able to quench that desire, and you’ll be left to suffer a life of dissatisfaction because you walked away from your dream for one of the stupidest reasons there could possibly be. It took you blood, sweat, and tears to get here, it should take no less to stay, and you should know that.”

Desperate to keep Wyatt from seeing the tears, Kingston lowered his head, but Wyatt immediately grabbed his jaw and held it up firmly, his steely gaze holding Kingston’s relentlessly.

“I know you didn’t spend as much time with your dad as Quinn did,” Wyatt said. “I thought that served you better. And you could say it did, but you could dispute that too, because you seem to have the same flippant mentality as Quinn does about rodeo. You think it’s easy, you deny that it takes a whole lot of fortitude to stay here, even though it took you a whole lot of fortitude to get here. I know you and Quinn don’t get on well; that in spite of the wide differences between your events of choice that there is still this unquenchable and intense sibling rivalry between the two of you; so I tell you this: if you want to be better than Quinn, for ever and always, you need to be willing to roll up your sleeves, put on your big boy boots, and earn the right to stay here.”

Kingston tried to pull his jaw out of Wyatt’s grip as tears blurred his vision.

“You can’t do it alone,” Wyatt said, his tone softening. “Don’t lie to yourself that you can, because that’s in the bull pens too. You need help to do this. Everyone does. Why do you think the rodeo community is so tight-knit? We know we need each other. I will help you, and I’m sure Drew and Lincoln, among many others, will do the same. You aren’t alone, and you shouldn’t expect to be.”

Valuable Lesson: Day 12

Word Count: 72,031

Summary of Events:

After spending the night in hospital Kingston was discharged and cleared to keep riding, although his back was bruised and his leg was a little sore. Blair was incredibly relieved to see that he was alright and actually ended up kissing him on the lips — which she hadn't yet done to him, and Kingston much appreciated. His grandparents called, having heard the news secondhand from Caldwell's grandparents; Kingston apologised profusely for neglecting to notify his grandparents. Heading into the next weekend Kingston felt a lot better, but was still recovering . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

As he made his way back toward the camper he saw Blair was standing outside. She hurried over to him as soon as she recognised him and pressed her lips against his.

Kingston caught her up and held her close as he returned the kiss for some time before she started to pull back.

“You certainly seem to be getting over the jerk,” Kingston said.

“The jerk?” Blair asked.

“Yeah, the jerk who took advantage of you,” Kingston replied.

“Oh, that jerk,” Blair said. “I thought you meant jerk.”

She jerked on his arm to indicate.

“No, I meant the person jerk,” Kingston replied.

“Yes, I am getting over him,” Blair said.

“Good,” Kingston said. “Are you wanting to do something?”

“Yeah,” Blair replied.

“Such as?” Kingston asked.

“Take a walk to wherever downtown is and pay a visit to that amazing ice cream shop Tara was raving about,” Blair replied.

“We can do that,” Kingston said. “Walking is good for my leg anyways.”

“You’re feeling better?” Blair asked, sliding her arm around behind him and leaning against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Kingston replied. “My back’s still a little tender, but my leg feels pretty much normal, which is good, seeing how Ponoka’s coming up fast.”

“Why does Ponoka run their stampede the same week as Calgary?” Blair asked.

“To give the guys who don’t get into the Calgary Stampede something to do,” Kingston replied.

“Oh,” Blair said. “So people have to be really good to get into the Calgary Stampede?”

“Yeah,” Kingston replied. “It’s the best of the best that get there, and I ain’t one of them. Yet.”

Blair smiled. “Neither am I. Yet.”

Kingston smiled. “We’ll make it, though, I know we will.”

“Absolutely,” Blair said.

They walked along in silence for a bit.

“You’re good enough to ride tonight?” Blair asked.

“I rode last weekend,” Kingston replied.

“I’m so scared you’re going to get caught up like that again,” Blair said.

“I’ve been riding broncs for about five years, and that’s the first time I’ve ever been hung up in any fashion,” Kingston said. “It’s not as common an occurrence as one can be led to believe. I know what I’m doing, I promise you I’ll be fine.”

Blair didn’t look convinced.

“Blair, please, don’t worry so much,” Kingston said. “I will be fine, even if people want to think otherwise. I know what I’m doing, and I know what to do to avoid that situation again.”

“And what is that?” Blair asked.

“Move faster,” Kingston replied. “I was caught off-guard by what was going on and so was a little scared to move. What I need to do is just move, push off, shift myself over get my foot out, and get off.”

“And you don’t think it’ll happen again then?” Blair asked.

“I should hope it doesn’t,” Kingston replied. “But I can’t really make any guarantees.”

Valuable Lesson: Day 11

Word Count: 66,054

Summary of Events:

Kingston, Drew, and several other bronc riders went out for pizza together; conversation revolved around how some of them were having success, while others weren't, and Kingston ended up rather insulted when the one rider suggested that he — and the others who weren't having success — weren't putting in enough effort. That night Kingston was upset to see the rider who suggested he wasn't trying hard enough win the bareback bronc event for the night before Kingston went out and rode in the saddle bronc; in the last moments of his ride Kingston lost hold of the lead rope and got shifted out of his seat by a buck with one foot free, one not . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Kingston wished in this moment that saddle bronc saddles would have horns on them like normal saddles. At least his had a hole under the cantle right at the front of the seat, so he stuck his hand through and tried to shift over to get his right foot free while the horse continued to buck.

The horn sounded moments before the horse stumbled — likely having stepped on the lead that Kingston had lost — which threw Kingston forward, leaving him in an even worse position to get his right foot free.

Immediately the pickup riders came in, but Kingston was too far to the right to go for the one to his left, and his right hand — which was hanging onto the cantle — was all that was holding him from going down to the dirt.

Kingston pushed himself back into the seat of the saddle and got his right hand free, only to have the horse give a sudden hard buck that sent him onto the horse’s neck. He grabbed on, but the horse dropped its head, pulling on his right leg.

Because in saddle bronc the narrow stirrups were settled right at the heel of the boot Kingston’s right foot didn’t slide out of the stirrup, but instead twisted the stirrup and fender around with it.

The horse was quite displeased with the weight on its neck and kept its head down until Kingston finally let go, pushing to the right, where the pickup man had peeled off for Kingston’s safety.

Being dragged by a horse for too long could result in death, so as soon as Kingston hit the ground he started trying to wrest his foot out of the stirrup, but was getting nowhere fast. The crowd was silent. If they didn’t know this was a bad thing for sure they were pretty convinced it wasn’t a good thing.

The other pickup rider had the horse by the lead and was trying to get it to stand still, but it wasn’t working, the horse kept circling around the pickup man and his horse, which meant Kingston was continuing to drag on the ground.

Finding that the stirrup wasn’t going anywhere, Kingston went to work on his boot, if he could get his foot out of his boot he’d be free.

Kingston’s leg felt excessively stretched, he might tear a muscle in it if this went on too much longer — although if he got his head bashed in by one of the hooves a torn leg muscle wasn’t likely to matter.

Desperately Kingston fiddled with the spur strap. Why had he gone and bought new spur leathers this offseason? Now they were stiff and difficult to work with at a time when his life was at stake.

Finally the strap came free and Kingston got his heel loose. His foot slid free and he managed to roll away from the horse amid significant cheers.

Valuable Lesson: Day 10

Word Count: 60,045

Summary of Events:

Kingston struck out on both rides at the next rodeo, in spite of the fact that Blair had kissed him, which had previously correlated with every time he'd gotten points. The following weekend Kingston was able to have a conversation with Blair's uncle, Kerry, who didn't like him and didn't think he was a good companion for Blair because Kerry had heard he was prone to random bursts of violence, but Kingston made it clear that they were only against Quinn, whom he felt his father had never done a good job of disciplining . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“You mean to say you don’t think he’s parented you and your siblings well?” Kerry asked.

“Outside of my first five years I wasn’t parented by him,” Kingston replied. “I stayed with my mother or my paternal grandparents. They’re the people who parented me, otherwise I wouldn’t trust me as far as I could throw me either. But Quinn spent a lot more time with Dad and by the time Quinn was in high school he was living with Dad. There are people who have told me they can’t believe I’m a half brother to Quinn. The way Dad spoils him they thought he was an only child.”

“Really,” Kerry said. “I don’t typically stay up for the bulldogging, and I typically spend my time with the ropers, so as much as I’ve heard their names floated about I haven’t really seen them all that much.”

“Quinn is a total brat,” Kingston said. “And Dad just doesn’t see it. He’s convinced that I’m some out-of-control violent maniac and tells me to stop attacking Quinn for no reason when Quinn has been attacking me for years. He doesn’t physically attack me as much as he used to anymore, but verbally. He is constantly calling me names and I just can’t stand it so I reflexively punch him.”

Kerry nodded. Kingston thought he looked a little more convinced, but he couldn’t be altogether sure.

“I show violence against Quinn because I am determined to protect myself,” Kingston said. “Dad forsook the whole idea of protecting me when he went and jilted Mom, so now I have to defend myself from all of the threats that Quinn poses to me, and a lot of people see it as random violence because they don’t know the whole story. They don’t know how mean Quinn is to me, and that I have no other recourse than to defend myself.”

There was a long silence. Kingston didn’t know what to say without repeating himself.

“You know, I didn’t expect you to convince me that you might be better than I’d  been told you are,” Kerry said. “But I am actually willing to give you a chance. I will be watching you over the next while, and if I think that you’ve told me the truth and people truly don’t understand you as you’ve suggested that I might be able to reconsider the judgement that I’d levied against you.”

“Thank you,” Kingston said. “I promise you the main issue is that people don’t see enough of my interactions with Quinn to understand the reasons for what they do see.”

Kerry nodded. “Time will tell.”

Kingston nodded as Kerry got up and gathered the chair. He hoped that he’d be able to prove to Kerry that he was nicer than a good number of people thought he was, and thus would be a trustworthy boyfriend for Blair.

Valuable Lesson: Day 9

Word Count: 54,024

Summary of Events: 

Kingston was able to hang on for some more points, even if he still wasn't getting to 70, and then talked with a barrel racer whose mother had dated his father for a time about Blair. He was thrown just before the eight second mark the following night at an event that featured only bronc riding, which left him annoyed. The next afternoon he learned from Monty that Quinn had been told Kingston hadn't gotten any points all season; he learned from Waylon, however, that Quinn hadn't gotten a good time either — in fact, he attacked the official and the Rodeo Association was discussing potentially banning him for the rest of the season — before they got talking about Kingston's progress, with Waylon recommending Kingston make some changes . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Changes?” Kingston asked. “And why should I go making any changes?”

“Because of the fact that what you’re currently doing isn’t doing anything for you,” Waylon replied.

“This system has been working for me from day one,” Kingston protested.

“Kingston,” Waylon said. “It’s like a car. Holding the steering wheel still doesn’t mean you’re going to go straight the whole time, you have to constantly adjust it.”

“You’re suggesting I wrench the steering wheel around and head in the opposite direction!” Kingston protested.

“No I’m not,” Waylon said. “I’ve been in this business for thirty years, and even though I haven’t been in the same event as you, my experience is not isolated. Everyone has to make adjustments and changes to how they do things in order to maintain the success which they had.”

“And I’m not opposed to that,” Kingston said.

“You certainly seem like you are,” Waylon said.

“But I’ve done that,” Kingston said. “And it’s still not working.”

“Are you really sure you’ve done enough?” Waylon asked. “Think of hockey teams, or even any sports team, really: if the team’s losing a lot they fire the coach. If that doesn’t shake things up they fire the GM. If that fails then they just trade out all the players and bring in a whole different group of people. Surely there’s something more you can do to change things up than what you’ve done. You don’t have to be extreme, but there’s got to be something more that you can do.”

“I think I’ve pretty much done everything I can do,” Kingston said.

“Seeing as you’re not having much success I don’t believe you have,” Waylon replied.

“Well then if you’re an expert what do you think I should do?” Kingston challenged.

“I’m not an expert,” Waylon replied. “There’s a difference between expert and experienced. I am experienced, but I am not an expert, and especially not in bronc riding. As a man who is experienced in rodeo, I have observed and have needed to practise making changes to what I do in order to improve my performance and achieve continued success. I am only the renowned bulldogger I am because of commitment to do whatever honest work it takes to achieve continued success. I am sure that the same applies to you. If you want to have success at all, much less long-term success, you need to be committed to doing what it takes do give you that success in accordance with the rules.”

Kingston crossed his arms and exhaled indignantly.

Waylon sighed and shook his head. “Kingston, I have some opinions on why you’re not succeeding, but I am keeping them to myself out of respect for you. Still, I will tell you this: if what you’re doing to get better is only getting you sixty-point scores, then obviously it’s not enough and you need to get doing more if this is what you really want. If this isn’t what you want then quit now.”

Valuable Lesson: Day 8

Word Count: 48,015

Summary of Events:

In spite of the rain and mud the rodeo went ahead as scheduled and Kingston succeeded in hanging on to both of his mounts for eight seconds; the unfortunate thing was that his scores still remained below 70 points, which classed them as poor scores. After the go-round Kingston hung out with a couple of friends and told them about Blair and what had happened to her; one friend didn't believe her story and cast such strong doubt on it that, in spite of another friend's reassurance Kingston couldn't rest until he'd checked Blair was in bed like she'd told him she'd be; she was in bed reading a book, but she saw Kingston in the window and screamed . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

The room went dark and he heard quick footsteps and talking, but he couldn’t make it out, nor did he altogether try to, as he was pretty sure he was going to get into trouble for having frightened Blair.

Kingston grabbed his hat and shoved it on his head before grabbing his drink and getting to his feet to hurry away just as he heard the camper door behind him open.

Before he could get any further a strong, masculine hand seized his throat, turned him, and slammed him hard against the side of the camper. Kingston could tell his drink sloshed in the cup a bit, but his hand wasn’t wetted because the cup was rather large.

“Who are you?” a low, threatening man’s voice that sounded like it was passing through teeth demanded.

“Kingston Aizenman sir,” Kingston replied quickly.

“And what are you doing outside of my vehicle?” the man demanded.

“I, I, I’ve made friends with Blair,” Kingston replied. “Just friends, not more, and she told me about her jerk boyfriend in the States, and I understand and I’m not going to force her, but I was talking with some friends and one of them didn’t believe her story and I didn’t know who to believe so I came to check and my friend wasn’t to be believed and I was just going to leave and I didn’t mean to scare her, I, I didn’t even think she might be able to see me and that I’d scare her; tell her I’m sorry, but I never doubted her for a minute, and I didn’t want to which was why I came.”

There was a long silence. Kingston could feel the anger radiating off of the man, whom Kingston realised he knew at least by name, it was her uncle Kerry who had him pinned against the camper by his throat.

“Please, let me go, I’ll go straight to bed,” Kingston pleaded. “Please.”

“I know Canada’s not as liberal with their guns as the US, so I may not be armed with weapons that can threaten you from a distance kid,” Kerry said, his voice still low and menacing. “But you come back around again and I’ll pummel you, got it? I brought my niece up to Canada to keep her safe from men who would destroy her, and I won’t let any man up here entertain those kind of ideas either.”

“I understand sir,” Kingston said. “I won’t, never again.”
“Let’s hope you mean it kid,” Kerry said, releasing his hold on Kingston’s throat.

Kingston took his empty hand and rubbed his throat a little bit.

“Now get!” Kerry shouted.

Startled by the fierceness of Kerry’s order, Kingston immediately took off, headed for the trailer, not really settling down until he was inside. He then sat down at the table and slowly sipped down the rest of his drink in an effort to settle himself down. He didn’t doubt Kerry was serious, and he had no intentions of testing the man again.

Valuable Lesson: Day 7

Word Count: 42,054

Summary of Events:

Kingston watched Blair get the lead in the barrel racing after succeeding in getting points in his bareback ride; his saddle ride didn't go as well and he was bucked off, but he was pleased to see Quinn fail to catch his steer in the bulldogging. It was a pouring rain the following day, so Kingston and Caldwell went to a local coffee shop to hang out, only to get a call from Caldwell's father, Farley, that an agitated bull had damaged the corral fencing and the bulls could get out, prompting them to hurry back . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“What’s the plan?” Caldwell asked.

“We’ve got space in a couple forward pens to hold a few,” Farley replied. “We’re going to move as many as possible there, and we need to get this one into the squeeze, the rest we’re going to get into one of the trailers.”

“Okay,” Caldwell said. “Where do you want us?”

“Stay here,” Farley replied. “Brandon, go keep an eye forward, we want to be sure no one else is upset enough to wreck any more fencing.”

Brandon rode off and Farley dispatched a couple other men — mostly men on foot — to run the gates down the alleyway and get the bulls moving.

The rest watched and waited as one of the trailers was backed into place, ready to accept all the bulls that there was no room for closer to the arena.

Kingston watched somewhat nervously as the men in the alleyway skilfully prodded the agitated bulls through, all the while keeping a gate or fence panel between them and the animal, who were each a good two thousand pounds and not really able to be controlled.

Some of the bulls who came out swinging their heads were immediately herded toward the trailer, while the others who looked a bit more nervous were pushed forward. The dazed bull didn’t move.

It didn’t take long for the bulls to be removed and sorted. As the last bull was leaving the dazed bull seemed to realise what was going on and charged toward the gate.

With a swift move Farley drew his tranquiliser gun out of a scabbard on his saddle and fired.

The colourfully-tailed dart hit the bull in the rump. Immediately the bull turned and made to charge at Farley, but he stumbled and dropped to the dirt before he could get there.

“Close the alley gates!” Farley hollered.

Men immediately obliged.

“Come on you two,” Farley said, looking at Kingston and Caldwell.

They followed Farley, who rode toward the access gates into the alley. A man was at the gates and let them in. They rode up the alley to the pen, where Caldwell and Kingston were instructed to rope the bull.

Kingston was okay at roping, but Caldwell was better, so Kingston roped the head and Caldwell roped the heels.

“Is that a short dose?” Caldwell asked.

“Yes,” Farley replied, getting off his horse to pull the dart out of the bull’s hindquarters.

He got back into his saddle and they waited just a minute or two while rain continued to pour down until the bull started to revive. Farley got a cattle prod from one of the men watching them and goaded the bull to its feet.

The bull was still under the influence of the tranquilisers, and so staggered to its feet before following Kingston’s pulling toward the gate, headed for the squeeze where the bull would be secured and could be attended to by a veterinarian.

Valuable Lesson: Day 6

Word Count: 36,026

Summary of Events:

Kingston notched his first point-earning ride of the season, which left him somewhat happy, except for the fact that it was the lowest score he'd ever received as a professional. Arriving at the next rodeo, Kingston encountered the attractive South Dakotan again and they walked around the grounds talking, mostly about family . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

They lapsed into silence and stopped by the pens where the broncs were relaxing while they waited for the night’s go-round. Kingston watched the horses idly switch flies off of their bodies with their tails, many of them dozing with a hind leg cocked, which was probably one of the best things to do at this stage of the afternoon.

“So do you want to go back to your trailer?” Kingston asked.

“You don’t have to drop me off,” Blair replied.

“No, I was thinking we could hang out there,” Kingston said.

“I share it with my uncle, he sleeps at one end, I sleep at the other,” Blair replied.

“And would he be in there?” Kingston asked.

“Not necessarily,” Blair replied. “But I know he has a couple people, including Tara, keeping an eye out on me.”

“Why?” Kingston asked.

“So I don’t get hurt,” Blair replied.

“In what way?” Kingston asked.

“Romantically,” Blair replied.

“Oh,” Kingston said. “Well I wouldn’t hurt you. I promise.”

“Forgive me for not being fully convinced,” Blair said.

Kingston felt a jab of annoyance, and even hurt to a measure.

Blair looked up at him pleadingly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not that I don’t want to trust you Kingston,” Blair said. “It’s just that, well, I just got hurt bad by a boyfriend, and I’m still recovering from that.”

“Oh,” Kingston said, his ire lowering — at least toward Blair, it continued to simmer against whoever the jerk was who’d left her like this. “That’s got to suck.”

Blair nodded. “He’s a bull rider.”

“So that’s why you’re in Canada?” Kingston asked.

“Yeah,” Blair replied, nodding as she stared at the horses. “My uncle recommended it so I could keep being in rodeo and not have to run into him.”

“Would you be willing to tell me what he did?” Kingston asked.

“He made a fool out of me to hide his real lover,” Blair replied, still not making eye contact.

“His real lover?” Kingston asked.

“Yeah,” Blair replied. “He’s in his early twenties, but he started an affair with a different barrel racer. She was married, and at least ten years older than him. To keep the relationship hidden he convinced me that he loved me and pretended to be my boyfriend, except that he wouldn’t entirely satisfy me, he kept stringing me on. One night I’d had enough and decided I was going to make him do what I wanted. I showed up at his camper and found them together.”

“If I ever meet him he’s going to regret it,” Kingston said. “Not even Dad has done something like that to a woman. I mean, he has lied to his current partners about their replacements, and not all of them necessarily know that he’ll have one-nights on occasion.”

“There was a couple people that kind of warned me,” Blair said. “But I foolishly ignored them.”

“They knew?” Kingston asked.

“No,” Blair replied. “But they didn’t trust him, something didn’t sit right with them, and they also didn’t think he was the best man for me.”

Valuable Lesson: Day 5

Word Count: 30,009

Summary of Events:

Kingston and Monty talked around the campfire about Kingston's strained relationship with Quinn, which Kingston explained was because Quinn was an incorrigible boaster. Back at rodeo action again, Kingston hoped for an improvement, but instead failed again to hang on long enough; his slamming of things in frustration attracted the attention of an attractive young barrel racer he'd never met and they chatted until she had to go compete. The next day found Kingston and Drew headed off to another rodeo, making a stop at a favourite restaurant on the way there . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Now Kingston was back at the rodeo grounds surveying the stock, while Drew did his routine that apparently helped him to ride better. Kingston didn’t really feel like trying it, he doubted it would really have that much of an effect.

“Hey, if it isn’t the kid King.”

Kingston flinched somewhat with the rather heavy hit onto his upper arm the speaker levelled before looking toward the strong, similarly tall, and much more experienced bronc rider who’d levelled it.

“Afternoon Royce,” Kingston said.

“How’ve things been going this season kid?” Royce asked. “Truck’s still running?”

“Yeah,” Kingston replied. “I’m not too worried about it. It’s only a four year old and it has less than a hundred thousand clicks on it.”

“Oh, you got a new one,” Royce said. “Not that old beater.”

“It wasn’t worth fixing,” Kingston said.

“What about Sunderland?” Royce asked.

“We went halves on the truck,” Kingston replied. “It was the only way we could afford it.”

“Oh,” Royce said. “So you’ve got a permanent travelling companion.”

“Unless one of us decides we want out,” Kingston replied. “His uncle drew us up a contract for whenever that happens.”

“So you think it will?” Royce asked.

“Yeah,” Kingston replied. “Not because we don’t get along, or are at risk of not getting along, but because I get the impression that Drew wouldn’t mind marrying younger than I would, and, when that happens he’d probably like to not have a bachelor buddy riding with him.”

“I never thought of that angle,” Royce said. “But I guess that could always happen.”

Kingston nodded. He certainly hoped it was something more like a marriage that caused their travels together to come to an end than a disagreement, and he was largely confident it would be at this point in time.

“So how’s the season been going kid?” Royce asked.

“Terrible,” Kingston replied.

“Oh, and what’s terrible mean?” Royce asked.

“I haven’t stuck a ride all season,” Kingston replied.

“Yikes,” Royce said. “That is terrible.”

Kingston nodded. “I’ve come close a couple times, but I just can’t seem to hang on long enough.”

“Well, it could always just be a sophomore slump,” Royce said. “I had one myself, although I don’t know that I had a long streak without a ride. Things picked up for me in the later portion of that season, so don’t worry kid, it’ll come around yet. Let’s hope you get some points soon, though.”

“Yeah,” Kingston agreed, nodding.