Year End Summary

Word Total: 990,490

Increase Over Year Prior: 135,300

Novel Total: 10

Increase Over Year Prior: 0

Longest Novel: Unexpected, 145,064 words, 256 pages

Shortest Novel: Descent into Ruin, 90,019 words, 161 pages

Summary of the Year:

It seems rather hard to believe that the year’s come to an end — in fact, I’m kind of sad about it — but, at the same time, I am glad that it has, as I probably need this break more than I think.

I’m really pleased with all the projects that I turned out this year, there were so many fun stories that I really enjoyed telling, just the same as there’s going to be next year, which will surely be here before we know it.

In summary of the year… I don’t really know what to say. It was a lot of fun to either finally do some of these projects for the first time, as they were ideas that I’d been really looking forward to getting down on paper, or revisiting and making some much-needed improvements that really have me pleased with their progress.

More and more of my projects are becoming rewrites, though, as I’m not coming up with so many new ideas anymore, or if I am, I want to use the characters I’ve already created, making them sequels of the stories I’ve already written, which is something I’ve not yet attempted to do, although I probably should.

I do hope that you all are enjoying these projects even though you don’t leave any comments — not that I’d be the type to leave comments on a blog either, if I’m honest, so don’t think I’m griping — and I also hope that you’ll all enjoy a lovely winter (or summer for anyone who might be visiting from the Southern Hemisphere) and a particularly pleasant Christmas season before joining me again next year.

Until then, Merry Christmas,

                   R.A. Millet

Next Post: 1 January

By Chance: Day 15

Word Total: 90,094

Year to Date: 990,490

Summary of Events:

Steele did some practise for the roping demonstration he was going to do for the riding school's autumn festival to see if the makeshift setup would work, as well as going to the place where he usually practised to do some practise runs with his competition horse in the evening. The following day, however, his knee started feeling sore and he felt concerned that he'd damaged it, so he got an emergency x-ray done, but there was no new damage, and the doctor suggested he was just diving back into what he usually did a little too quickly. After resting it overnight and for much of the morning, Steele's knee felt fine and he prepared to do the roping demonstration after Alida explained how it worked, including the penalties that were faced in actual competition…

Excerpt of the Day:

“They also only get one chance to catch the calf,” Alida continued. “If their rope misses the calf they get no time and, as a result, no money. Additionally, they have to make sure they don’t incur penalties, of which there are two. The first penalty is if they break the barrier which is stretched across their box in an actual rodeo setting. This barrier is connected to the door of the chute the calf is in, and is released when the calf exits the chute. If the barrier is broken by the roper, he’s gotten an illegal head start and gets a ten-second time penalty. The other penalty comes if his pigging string is unable to hold the calf’s legs together for six seconds, which causes his time to be wiped off the board completely. Because this isn’t a professional setting, we’ll let Steele have more tries if he needs, and we won’t be timing him either. With that, take it away Steele.”

Nodding, Steele rode Farley over to where the calf was standing by its mother and forced it to move away from the pen toward Skelton, who caught the calf around its neck and led it despite bawling protests to stand alongside the makeshift box into which Steele rode Farley as he set his pigging string in his mouth.

Farley backed neatly into the corner, shifting his weight slightly, but otherwise standing calmly. The calf bawled and fought against Skelton’s strong hold. Its mother lowed back, which sounded very loud despite the size of the arena.

Steele made eye contact with Skelton and nodded. 

The calf shot forward and Steele cued Farley after it.

His rope sailed over the calf’s head and caused it to be flipped to the ground when Farley stopped, causing the rope to go tight.

By the time Steele reached the calf it’d clambered to its hooves again, but Steele threw it down and tied its legs before throwing his hands up.

The crowd cheered as the calf bawled and struggled while Steele got to his feet, lowering his hands and walking back over to Farley, who was keeping the tension in the line with occasional, subtle shifts of his hooves.

Steele climbed back into the saddle and cued Farley to step forward, releasing tension in the rope as Shea untied the calf’s legs before flipping the rope off the calf’s head, allowing it to surge up and run over to its mother, who nosed it through the rails while Steele coiled up his rope and accepted his pigging string back from Shea.

“That was a perfect run,” Alida said. “At least so far as we could tell.”

Steele nodded as the crowd cheered.

Next Post: 30 November

By Chance: Day 14

Word Count: 84,161

Summary of Events:

Steele went for the x-ray and was pleased when the x-ray showed he was healing well enough that the doctor gave him permission to go without his crutches — although he was to keep wearing the flexible knee brace for awhile — as well as approving his competition in the CFR. When Steele informed the kids they were all somewhat disheartened that he would be leaving, but understood that rodeo was his main occupation. In preparation for the CFR, Steele went to the property of Dolan Haggerty, a fellow roper who was, in fact, the man he was renting his horse from, to do some practise runs…

Excerpt of the Day:

Inside the barn proper, Steele turned and headed down the aisle to the stall he was looking for. Many people said — usually when Dolan wasn’t around to hear them — that Dolan had certainly gotten all of the financial contribution out of his father-in-law he could in the barn project, seeing as insurance wouldn’t cover the collapse because the barn had been deteriorating before its collapse, and Dolan wanted to add onto the structure.

Some people, thus, considered it fitting that the building wasn’t technically owned by Dolan, but was mostly owned by a combination of the bank and other rodeo competitors whom he had to pay on a regular basis, because if he missed payments — especially to the bank — the property would undoubtedly get foreclosed on, as Dolan’s parents had sold him the property and he hadn’t fully paid off the mortgage.

The gelding turned around at the sound of Steele unlocking the door, nickering deeply.

Steele lifted the halter off the hook fixed to the door as he slid it open on its rolling track before slipping inside and putting his arm around the gelding’s neck in order to bring the halter around the gelding’s head.

With the gelding secured, Steele led him out of the stall and toward the grooming area closer to the arena.

He clipped the cross ties to either side of the gelding’s halter and fetched a bucket of brushes to give the gelding a light going-over before he went to the tack room and fetched the tan-coloured tack that was fitted to the gelding.

Steele personally didn’t like the tack colour. He didn’t feel like a black horse looked good in tack that was the colour of peanut butter. A darker tack colour, more like a mahogany or a cherry wood colour was much more appealing in his eyes, but Dolan had bought the tack, and he’d chosen that colour.

Thus, Steele put the tack onto the gelding and led him out into the arena, which was actually slightly smaller than the area that Alida had at her disposal. Dolan had wanted a larger arena even though he didn’t actually need the space, but his father-in-law and the bank had conspired together to put the kibosh on that for financial reasons.

Getting into the saddle caused a twinge of pain, just as it had with Farley, although not quite as bad of a twinge as Steele had been expecting he might feel. Once he was in the saddle, however, his knee felt fine and he started riding the gelding around in warm-up.

As ever, the gelding moved well beneath him, responding to his cues easily. The gelding was honestly a well-trained horse, even if he lacked the little things necessary to be a successful roping horse in the professional ranks.

By Chance: Day 13

Word Count: 78,041

Summary of Events:

Steele went to another physiotherapy appointment, where his physiotherapist was displeased to hear he'd gotten on a horse again, and didn't believe his attestations that his knee wasn't really hurting all that much, and so ordered an x-ray for the following day. In the meantime, Steele returned to be a bit of help to Dilys with the last group of kids for the day, including Peyton, who was rather agitated by his presence, even in spite of Dilys' efforts to smooth things over…

Excerpt of the Day:

“Dilys,” Steele whispered.

Turning, she walked over to him.

“Do you know what she’s talking about?” Dilys asked quietly.

“Not really,” Steele replied. “But I think I should talk with her for a moment.”

Dilys looked uncertain, but nodded. “Okay.”

Steele went over to Peyton, hesitating for a moment before he put his hand on her shoulder.

“Peyton,” he said as sternly as he dared. “We need to talk please.”

Peyton turned and glared at him, which he’d anticipated, meeting her gaze and not moving his jaw — not that he had it as set as he usually had it when irritated.

They stared for a long moment before she finally threw her curry comb aside and moved away from the others — but still within sight of them — with clear distaste.

Steele relaxed his stance. “I don’t want to be an enemy Peyton.”

She opened her mouth to make a retort.

“I want you to know something important,” Steele said.

She closed her mouth.

“I was a HopeWell student once too,” Steele said. “I was in your shoes once.”

Peyton raised her eyebrows, drawing her whole face into a strongly disbelieving expression.

“And more than just that I learned how to ride a horse here for the first time, which eventually led to my talent for roping being discovered, and my present career in rodeo,” Steele said. “I know what you’re feeling.”

“No you don’t,” Peyton hissed.

“The Clares were some of the first people ever to care about me Peyton,” Steele replied. “I would’ve been a very different person if they wouldn’t have come into my life and showed me that I was cared about, which was something that I’d not really gotten from anyone before, including my dad.”
Peyton’s gaze changed, she looked startled, as if his comment had struck a chord, which he’d both hoped and anticipated it would.

“Considering I was a son who could follow in his footsteps, I don’t really understand why he didn’t care about me, but it was evident in the way he acted that I had little value in his eyes,” Steele added. “Seeing he was my father, he should’ve cared about me more than most people, so, with him not caring about me, I doubted anybody did, but the Clares did, and that made all the difference.”

Quietly, looking almost completely disarmed, Peyton nodded.

“Do you think we can at least be civil now?” Steele asked.

Peyton nodded again.

“Good,” Steele said quietly. “You can go back to Elsa now.”

Once again Peyton nodded before turning somewhat slowly and walking back to Elsa looking to be in something of a daze. Steele was glad he still had his crutches, as he felt like he wouldn’t be standing if he didn’t.

He stood where he was for a long moment before he felt like the trembling had subsided enough for him to crutch over to the chair and sit down. A small part of him was railing at him for having dared to disclose even so vague of details as he’d disclosed to Peyton, while the rest of him didn’t really know what to do about it.

By Chance: Day 12

Word Count: 72,074

Summary of Events:

Steele continued supervising the kids and teaching them how to rope before receiving word ahead of the weekend that Dilys would be fit to return the following week — although she welcomed Steele to stay as a helper while he recovered. Over the weekend he bought a more flexible knee brace and tried out walking without his crutches and even otherwise working his right knee a little harder than he had before, which caused him minimal pain, for which he was glad. He even tacked up and rode one of the school horses, which he particularly enjoyed, before Alida discovered him in the saddle and the two discussed whether he'd be cleared to compete in the CFR, and whether he should get an x-ray done…

Excerpt of the Day:

“I’m seeing the physiotherapist again tomorrow,” Steele replied. “So we’ll see what she says.”
“And I guess she’d have the power to order one of those spit-spot,” Alida said.

“My thinking exactly,” Steele replied.

“Well, you know, our Autumn Festival is on Saturday,” Alida said.

“I know,” Steele replied.

“And, considering the interest you’ve generated in the kids about roping and rodeo,” Alida added.

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” Steele said.

“If the medical professionals give the go-ahead,” Alida continued. “Would you be interested in doing a demo run for us?”

“I can agree to that,” Steele replied. “I thought you were going to ask me to man some sort of a roping station or something.”

“No, I know you at least well enough to know you wouldn’t enjoy doing that,” Alida replied. “Although from what I’ve seen and heard from multiple sources in the almost two weeks you’ve been here, the kids have actually learned a lot from you.”

Steele shifted in the saddle, lowering his gaze to the coiled rope, which he fiddled with.

“I know you’ve never really had a lot to do with kids,” Alida said. “But I really do think you’re better with them than you think. That’s actually part of the reason why I asked you to fill in for Dilys in the first place.”

Raising his gaze, Steele looked critically at Alida.

“Please don’t be mad, Steele,” Alida said, looking at him with a tender and rather maternal gaze, even though she was only nine years older than him. “I know you’re going to go back to the feedlot when you get full clearance, and I’m not going to stop you. That probably pays better than this anyways.”

Steele nodded, looking away. He wasn’t really mad, he just felt uneasy, like he always did when people told him that he was actually good at things that made him in some way or another feel awkward, uneasy, or even scared. He didn’t like it when people seemed to be able to figure things out about him that he hadn’t figured out first. It made him scared that they’d figure out the things he was deliberately trying to hide.

“If you’re cleared for the CFR, though, would you be willing to do a demonstration run for everyone?” Alida asked.

“Just one?” Steele asked. “Or would I be doing one every ten, fifteen minutes all afternoon?”

“No, just one,” Alida replied. “We wouldn’t want to wear you out before the rodeo.”

“You’d just have it at a set time and tell everyone that it’s going to happen then so those who are interested can come and watch?” Steele asked.

“Yeah,” Alida replied.

“I could do that,” Steele replied nodding.

Alida nodded. “Now we have to hope you get cleared to do it or it’ll have to wait until our Winter Festival.”

Steele nodded. He wanted to get cleared and get back to normal, and he certainly hoped that he’d not gone and done anything to compromise his chances by riding Farley without prior approval from doctors.

By Chance: Day 11

Word Count: 66,049

Summary of Events:

After the group left for the day, Steele attended the debrief meeting, lingering afterwards to ask Alida about the girl who'd attested her father to be a bull rider, and had been very hostile toward him throughout the day. Alida told Steele that her name was Peyton and she was, in fact the daughter of a bull rider, but because she'd been born when her parents were in high school, her parents weren't together, and her father also seemed more interested in his sons with his new girlfriend than he was in her. The following morning, while Steele prepared his breakfast, his mind began to wander…

Excerpt of the Day:

Still having to wait, Steele’s mind wandered back to Peyton. He’d ended up spending much of the evening thinking about her once he’d been driven home by Stan after his dinner with Grandma Clare, who didn’t like driving in the dark — not that Steele blamed her, at her age, her eyes weren’t the greatest, even if she didn’t need glasses.

The more he thought about Peyton, the more bad he felt that he’d even thought so negatively about her owing to her behaviour toward him. Even if he couldn’t altogether explain why she’d acted the way she had toward him, he could sympathise with her.

To say the very least, he’d not received a lot of love from his father — in fact, the few memories he had of his father were overwhelmingly negative ones — and even if he had received the opposite from his mother, there was a part of him, even still, that yearned for the tiniest modicum of love from his father.

Considering the way things had ended up, Steele had his doubts he’d ever see his father again, though, so unless his father left some sort of affectionate note in his will, Steele wasn’t likely to get it, but there was also a part of him that would internally lambaste him for thinking such foolish thoughts as that love from his father would ever be something good to have.

During his teenage years Steele had craved it more than now, although Steele wasn’t sure whether it was because he’d acquired at least two surrogate father-figures — Alder and Strahan — and a surrogate grandfather in Grandpa Clare, or because he agreed with the part of himself that didn’t think love from his father was something he really should be wanting, or if it was a combination of the two.

He turned off the burner, but didn’t lift the lid or move the pan, as the eggs were still doing their best popcorn impression, which sounded a touch juicier than popcorn sounded.

Even though Peyton’s father undoubtedly wasn’t the same kind of man as his father, he still had probably been less of a factor in her life than he ought to have been — if Steele’s experiences with Strahan were any indication of how things were supposed to work, which Steele felt they had to be considering that Strahan and Astrid’s kids were only too glad to see their parents on a regular basis, and Steele wasn’t the only kid they’d fostered who still came around to visit either, even if many of the others actually lived further afield, and so didn’t come by quite as often.

As a result, Steele suspected that Peyton had a similar craving to what he had, but probably more at the level he’d had when he was a teenager, but why she would’ve been hostile toward him, instead of maybe hoping that he would be able to help her get the love she wanted from her father, he wasn’t sure about.

By Chance: Day 10

Word Count: 60,133

Summary of Events:

Steele continued to supervise kids as they groomed horses, as well as answering their questions about rodeo, horses, cattle, and anything else they asked him about. He also went to another physiotherapy appointment where the physiotherapist was encouraged by his progress, but refused to suggest he might get on a horse — much less compete in a rodeo — any sooner than had originally been suggested. After the appointment Steele supervised another group which included a girl who didn't seem to like him…

Excerpt of the Day:

There were five kids who lingered, among them being the girl who’d looked rather indignant, and two of the awestruck boys, who immediately came over to Steele.

“You’re a real rodeo cowboy?” one of them asked.

“I am,” Steele replied.

“Are you?” the indignant girl asked with sharp scepticism.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Steele asked.

“Do you ride bulls?” she asked.

“No,” Steele replied.

“Then you’re not,” she snapped.

“Why not?” Steele asked.

“Real cowboys ride bucking bulls,” she replied saucily. “My father is a real cowboy.”
“There would be a lot less cowboys in the world if cowboy were defined that way,” Steele replied. “As I can assure you the majority of people who are identified as cowboys do not, in fact, ride bulls.”

“They’ve just appropriated the term to make people think they’re cool,” she snapped.

Steele felt annoyance rise within him, but he forced it to stay there and just shook his head. He doubted there was really going to be any effective way to argue with her, so there was no sense wasting his breath.

“What do you do at rodeos if you don’t ride bulls?” one of the boys asked.

“Do you rope them to keep them from goring the cowboys?” the other asked.

“No,” Steele replied. “I compete in tie-down roping.”

“You rope to trucks?” the first boy asked.

“What?” Steele asked.

“Well, you tie down loads on trucks, so you use a rope to tie the bull to the truck so you can take it somewhere,” the boy replied.

“No,” Steele replied. “Tie-down roping is where you rope a calf, then lay it down and tie three of its legs together, and whoever does it the fastest wins.”

“What are calves?” the other boy asked.

“Baby bulls, and baby cows,” Steele replied.

“See, you’re not a real cowboy if you’re only roping babies!” the girl snapped.

“But why do you rope the babies?” one of the other girls asked, looking horrified.

“Because, just like human babies, they need to get vaccinations to protect them against diseases,” Steele replied. “Unlike human babies, however, baby cattle can be up and running alongside their mother within hours of being born, so we need to tie them up so we can give them their shots.”

“Oh,” the girl said. “Does it hurt them?”

“No, they’re pretty hardy,” Steele replied. “And we always make sure the rodeo arena’s dirt isn’t packed down, so they’re not landing on a hard surface either.”

“Do you vaccinate them at the rodeo?” one of the boys asked.

“No,” Steele replied. “We care more about speed than vaccinating the cattle, but on a ranch it’s the other way around.”

“What kind of diseases can cows get?” the other boy asked.

“I don’t know,” Steele replied. “You’d have to ask Alida’s dad, brother, or husband, but right now you should be brushing the horses.”

“Are you another brother of Alida?” the last girl of the group asked.

“No,” Steele replied. “We’re not related at all.”

By Chance: Day 9

Word Count: 54,035

Summary of Events:

The first group of kids arrived and Steele sat with them through the classroom-style lesson Alida taught them, even though he knew everything she was teaching the kids, before the headed out to the arena, where he was to supervise half of the group as they groomed some horses while the rest of the group rode under Alida's instruction. Since he'd been simply introduced as a professional rodeo cowboy, Steele wasn't surprised that it didn't take long for the questions to come…

Excerpt of the Day:

“Do you have the crutches because you got bucked off a horse?” a different boy — who looked very much a farm kid, after all, his sweater was Farm Boy branded — asked.

“Or a bull?” another boy asked.

“No,” Steele replied. “I don’t compete in those events.”

“Do you throw the steers down?” the first boy asked.

“No,” Steele replied.

“Well, what do you do then?” the first boy asked.

“I do tie-down roping,” Steele replied.

“What is that?” one of the girls asked.

“It’s where you rope a calf and tie up three of its legs the fastest,” Steele replied.

“That sounds lame,” the petulant boy spat. “I could probably do it.”

“Throwing a rope takes work,” Steele replied. “Not to mention you’re on a moving horse chasing a moving calf.”

“But what’s the point of it?” a girl asked.

“It’s a competitive version of an actual ranching activity,” Steele replied. “That’s what all rodeo is, except the bull riding. I don’t know who decided that was a good idea. But roping cattle is a way to restrain them so that they can be branded or tagged or otherwise have a mark applied to them to identify who owns them in case they get stolen, as well as to vaccinate them against diseases.”

“But they don’t actually do that in rodeos,” the second boy said.

“No,” Steele replied. “That’s not the goal in rodeo.”

“So then why do you have crutches?” the first boy asked.

“Because the rodeo season’s effectively over,” Steele replied. “There’s just the big final rodeo in November, but only twelve of the best in each event go there, everybody else goes to their winter jobs.”

“You didn’t make it to the big finals?” the second boy asked.

“Actually I have qualified,” Steele replied. “But I went to my winter job at the feedlot just to have something to do for the next month, and my job is kind of training for my event because I ride horses and rope cattle. Unfortunately, we had an angry steer who caused a bunch of chaos in which one of my coworkers hit his head on a metal fence and I broke the top of my shin bone on a fencepost.”

The petulant boy laughed aloud. “You hit your leg on a fencepost and broke it?”

“Yes,” Steele replied. “The post was about this big around, and was made of three millimetre thick steel pipe. I was on a horse that went from zero to top speed in the drop of a hat while too close to the fence. Doctors were expecting to have to surgically piece my leg back together. The fact that I only have a minor fracture to the top of my shin is impressive.”

“Is your coworker who hit his head okay?” a worried-looking girl asked.

“He’s still in hospital,” Steele replied. “Which is good, because we were all worried that he’d died. It’ll be a long time before he gets back on a horse again, but at least he’s still alive.”

By Chance: Day 8

Word Count: 48,005

Summary of Events:

Steele didn't really have a lot to do after his physiotherapist appointment, only getting out of the house when he was taken to do his weekly errands. While he was getting ready for bed one evening, however, his cellphone rang while he wasn't in the same room as it, prompting him to hurry over as fast as he dared, lest he miss the call…

Excerpt of the Day:

Not wanting it to go to voicemail, Steele didn’t look at who was calling.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Good evening Steele,” a familiar voice answered. “You’re probably not up to much tomorrow, are you?”

“Uh, no,” Steele replied.

“Do you think you could fill in for Dilys starting tomorrow?” the caller — whom he still hadn’t fully placed — asked.

“Doing what?” Steele asked, having a better idea of who was calling.

“Supervising the kids on their ground work,” she replied.

“Which involves…?” Steele asked.

“We’re working on grooming horses for this month,” she replied; he was sure she was Dilys’ sister Alida, both of whom were Shai’s cousins.

“Why?” Steele asked.

“Shea called me just a few minutes ago to tell me he’s taking Dilys in because her water broke, so she’s going to be out of commission for at least the rest of this week, and I don’t really have anybody else to call on with it being the season it is,” she replied.

“That’s all I have to do?” Steele asked.

“Yeah,” she replied. “You can’t really do much else, after all.”

“True,” Steele said.

“I’d even be willing to pay you for it,” she said.

“You don’t really have to,” Steele replied.

“I pay Dilys, I should pay you,” she said.

“It might make the WCB freak out, though,” Steele said. “Not that I’ve heard from them yet.”

“Really?” she asked. “It’s been two weeks, you might want to call them and ask.”

“I might,” Steele agreed.

“But we’ll look into that,” she said. “Even if we only pay you in December to keep them from getting upset, we can do that too.”

“If you feel like you have to,” Steele said. “When do I need to be there?”

“In order to give you a bit of a briefing on what you’re doing and what you’re looking for — well, I don’t know that I really have to tell you that part — I’d like you here for eight thirty if you can,” she replied. “The first group will be arriving at nine thirty.”

“And how many groups are there?” Steele asked.

“Three in a day,” she replied. “With breaks in between, don’t worry. Oh, and don’t pack your own lunch, we’ll supply. It’s actually Grandma’s turn tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Steele said, licking his lips at the thought of having some of Grandma Clare’s delicious cooking, even without knowing what she was making he knew it was going to be good.

“See you at eight thirty,” she said.

“But how am I getting there?” Steele asked.

“We’ll send somebody, don’t worry,” she replied.

“Okay,” Steele said. “I’ll be ready for them.”

“Thanks so much Steele,” she replied. “Good night.”

“G’night,” Steele replied.

He ended the call and sighed. Alida ran something of a riding school, except it was also a horse therapy program, thus all the students were kids who were going through hard times or were struggling with emotional issues, who were being taught how to ride in order to give them confidence, as well as to help them realise how their emotions could affect others.

By Chance: Day 7

Word Count: 42,137

Summary of Events:

Steele was taken by Alder to a physiotherapist who, to Steele's dismay, wasn't inclined to believe Steele could or should be back on a horse in time for the CFR, even wearing a more flexible knee brace, although she did give him some helpful tips on what he could do with one good leg and crutches. On the way back, they went for lunch at a pizza place, where they discussed Steele's chances at the CFR, and the fact that he was probably going to need to pursue a different horse to ride for the following rodeo season, with Steele expressing hope that the man he was currently renting a horse from would offer him a better horse without his even having to ask…

Excerpt of the Day:

“That might be nice,” Alder said, sounding doubtful.

“You don’t think it’s going to happen though?” Steele asked.

“Being honest, no,” Alder replied.

“Why not?” Steele asked.

“Dolan and I were never friends,” Alder replied. “Mostly, probably, because of the fifteen-year age gap between us, so we really had nothing to do with one another, but when we did interact on occasion, usually at community events and FourH and stuff like that, it never went well. I mean, it was usually kind of petty and childish interactions, but even just the Haggertys as a family, they’re not horrid, and I want to think better of them than I do, but it’s easier said than done, for sure.”

“What do you mean?” Steele asked.

“Having looked back as a mature adult on the matter,” Alder replied. “I think it’s just that the whole Haggerty family are competitive. They all want to be the best at whatever they do. They’d be in FourH and if they didn’t get top they’d accuse of bias until eventually I believe Dolan’s father actually got banned from attending FourH events because he was belligerent, and I think the kids all ended up quitting after that because they didn’t like getting second any more than their dad did.”

“I could see that,” Steele agreed. “Dolan competes pretty hard.”

“And, I mean, being competitive isn’t horrible,” Alder said. “I had to be competitive and train and all that stuff to ride bronc for all the years I did. But to be a sore loser isn’t exactly doing anybody any good.”

Steele nodded.

“I mean, having still been in rodeo when Dolan entered, I was able to observe him, and even though he is still a driven competitor, I could tell he’s come off his ‘I must win’ horse a bit,” Alder said. “Which is good. But I didn’t really have a lot to do with him there, which was probably as much because we were in different events as it was because we’re fifteen years apart, so I still have that lingering negativity, and I shouldn’t.”

Steele nodded.

“I will still admit, though,” Alder said. “Even though I know little about how competitive roping works, and roping horses and such, there could be a possibility that you doing well on a horse that’s in over his head, as it were, could backfire and lead to Dolan rejecting the idea of your changing horses because you’re doing so good on the one you have.”

Shifting his jaw, Steele nodded. He’d not actually thought of that, but it was just as much a potentiality that Dolan might be inclined to make him stay with his current gelding because of the fact that he’d made it to the CFR with him as it was possible that Dolan would be inclined to grant him a better horse without his asking for it because he’d made it to the CFR on a lesser horse. He didn’t like that thought.

By Chance: Day 6

Word Count: 36,050

Summary of Events:

Steele spent the ensuing days doing a lot of reading of books he'd borrowed from friends and the library, as well as being interviewed by the local newspaper, as they'd heard rumours of his injuries and wanted to confirm them and spread the news to a wider audience. He also ended up receiving a call from Shai's aunt with an update about his injured coworker, who'd been transferred to the best hospital in the province because of significant concerns with the health of his brain…

Excerpt of the Day:

“He’d been taken to Calgary?” Steele asked.

“Yes, I believe he was flown out there the same day he was injured,” Rose replied. “He’s got a significant skull fracture and there’s fears of brain damage, but he’s not been stable enough for them to do any scans to determine the extent of any possible brain damage.”

Steele could feel the bread and cheese churning in his stomach as his mind recalled the horrible way Zicker’s head had hit the metal rail and then snapped back.

“He also has a fractured neck vertebra, but there’s no concern of paralysis, that’s all stable,” Rose said. “And some other bumps, bruises, and possibly minor fractures. Their biggest concern is his brain and the various issues it’s been manifesting, thus why they sent him up to the U of A.”

“And he’s the one of us with a wife and kids,” Steele said.

“Yes, they’ve gone up to Edmonton to stay with a cousin of hers,” Rose said. “Job and Iris are planning on heading up this weekend to stay with Iris’ second cousin.”

“Have they made contact with Mr. Winchell?” Steele asked. “Last I heard he’d been trying to get a hold of them to no avail.”

“I don’t know,” Rose said. “But I at least figured that you would want to know what’s going on.”

“Yes, thank you,” Steele replied. “I appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry that it’s such bad news,” Rose said.

“At least it’s news,” Steele replied. “I mean, I think we all might’ve thought he was dead on the ground in the pen, but we at least all knew he was alive because they took him to the hospital, and it’s good to know that he’s still there.”

“It was that bad?” Rose asked.

“He hit the permanent pipe rail,” Steele replied. “That pipe is, like, three millimetres steel, no give.”

“Oh dear,” Rose said. “And he was bucked off his horse?”

“As he was reaching for the rail to get off,” Steele replied. “He’d been jostled loose by an initial buck, kept from resetting his seat by a couple half-rears, and then he went to get off and the colt bucked again, throwing him completely free, and I think he tried to stop himself, but his hands missed the rail, and his head didn’t.”

“Oh, that is horrible,” Rose said. “I’m sorry Steele.”

“Can’t predict the mood the animals are going to be in when they come out of the trailer,” Steele replied.

“That is true,” Rose said quietly. “We’ll be praying for you as much as for him Steele.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Steele replied.

Rose sighed. “I’ll talk to you later Steele.”

“You too,” Steele replied.

Steele sighed heavily as he ended the call. As good as it was to know that Zicker was still alive, the fact that he was still in the deepest thicknesses of the metaphorical woods made Steele feel horribly, and wonder if there wasn’t something he could’ve done sooner to prevent the situation from happening, even though he knew his distance from Zicker and his anxious colt probably wouldn’t have allowed him to do much, considering he’d been in the process of riding over to Zicker when most everything had unfolded.

Pronunciations:

Zicker: zihker

By Chance: Day 5

Word Count: 30,014

Summary of Events:

Steele's rodeo photographer friend Shai and her dad Alder came by Steele's place with an offer to drive him out to his workplace to get his truck and fill out paperwork required to report the accident to the worker's compensation board and other people who needed to know for official or insurance reasons. In addition, since his foster father still had the stuff he'd bought to bathe sitting down while he'd recovered from his leg injury, Alder and Shai offered to take Steele there to pick up the stuff since he needed to bathe sitting down in order to keep his knee immobile, during which time Alder and Steele discussed the logistics surrounding Steele's injury…

Excerpt of the Day:

“You think you’re going to get a list of people?” Alder asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Steele replied. “Everybody seems so worried about me, and the further the news spreads, the more people will be worried, to the point that nobody might have the chance to drive me twice, and some might even miss out on the chance to drive me once.”

“Hm,” Alder said. “I don’t quite know about that.”
“After all the fuss about me they made over the weekend?” Steele asked.

“True,” Alder conceded. “But you don’t strike me as the sort who’d accept rides from just anybody.”
“Even still, there’s enough people around here I would take rides from that I might have more than enough rides to where I need to go,” Steele replied. “Especially since I don’t anticipate that I’ll be going a lot of places.”

Alder nodded. “Not that you’ve answered my question though; is it worth the risk of pushing yourself going wrong to push yourself to be good to go at least a week early?”

“I don’t know that I am going to be able to push myself that much at all,” Steele replied. “And I certainly don’t want to go too hard until I’ve got through my prescriptions, because so long as I’m taking them I can’t feel my knee, or, at least, how sore it actually is, so I’m not able to feel if I’m overdoing anything.”

“So then should you even go to the physiotherapist on Tuesday?” Alder asked.

“I want to at least consult with somebody,” Steele replied. “Like I said.”

“There are things that you can’t hurry along though,” Alder said.

“And if I can’t hurry it, I can’t hurry it,” Steele said, letting a little irritation into his voice. “I just want to be able to keep myself from possibly, in any way, physically regressing. I want to be able, once I’m given the green light, to go back to doing exactly what I was doing before I got hurt, as opposed to having to build myself back up to that point before I could even think of maybe going past it.”

Alder nodded. “Okay, sorry to get under your skin like that, I just don’t want you to get any unrealistic ideas, as those could just make things worse.”

Steele nodded, grateful for Alder’s apology, as Alder had been starting to annoy him with his pressing the issue as if he believed that Steele was obsessed with getting to the CFR or something. He certainly didn’t really want to miss it despite his virtually nonexistent chances of winning any money at all — forget the championship — as it was the first time he’d ever had the chance, and he felt that going and competing would at least give him some valuable experience that would allow him to be better prepared for the time when he was able to compete for the money.

Pronunciation:

Shai: shay

By Chance: Day 4

Word Count: 24,042

Summary of Events:

Steele and his coworkers were helping unload cattle from a truck, one of which was a very angry steer who upset a particularly anxious horse one of Steele's coworkers was riding. The coworker got bucked off the horse and hit his head on the metal fence, losing consciousness, and laying on the wrong side of the fence. Steele roped the steer to get him away, prompting the steer to take a run at Steele and his horse, who escaped the blow, but the steer, while still behind Steele's horse, spooked her into running forward along the fence so close that Steele's knee hit a fencepost. As a result, once the steer had been taken care of Steele accompanied his unconscious coworker to the hospital, from which he was actually discharged and allowed to go home one his injury had been treated…

Excerpt of the Day:

Carefully Steele removed his crutches from under his arms and set them down on the stairs so that they slid down to the landing. He then used the solid railing on either side in lieu of crutches and made his way down to the landing, where he adjusted his crutches to slide them down the second flight of stairs before he hobbled down after them.

At the bottom of the stairs, Steele sat down on the bench that he’d never used before, but he was pretty sure had been placed as a functional decoration by the Czajkowskys, and removed his boots, the left one with his hands, the right with the aid of the boot remover.

He then unlocked and pushed open the door into his area and took up his crutches before standing and hobbling inside, where he placed his boots on the boot rack beneath the coat pegs just inside the door.

Closing the door, he made his way toward the couch and sat down heavily on the cushy upholstery.

After basking for a moment in the comfortable upholstery, Steele removed the white paper bag and teal-green pill bottles from one of the breast pockets on his shirt.

He read the stickers applied to the pill bottles, which not only told him the complex medical names of what he’d been prescribed, but when, how, and how often he was to take them.

The doctor and the pharmacist had both told him that he should take the one immediately upon getting home, but could wait with the other until suppertime. He didn’t want to get up, but he forced himself to do it and took the dosage as instructed.

He then made his way back to the couch, sat down, and looked at his knee. According to the x-rays, he had a hairline fracture of his tibial plateau, which actually impressed the medical staff, who’d expected more damage.

A locking knee brace that was holding his leg at something of a 45˚ angle was, thus, all that had been put on, and he’d actually been released to go home when part of him had expected he’d be staying overnight.

Nevertheless, he was grateful, the only thing was, he wasn’t allowed to drive until the brace was off, and when he’d asked about riding a horse, that had been ruled out almost emphatically for the entirety of the — as far as the doctors were concerned — minimum six weeks of recovery time.

Even though they did admit that hairline fractures could heal faster — as well as healing stronger — than more severe breaks, the medical personnel who’d attended to his injury all agreed that he wasn’t likely going to be able to even walk on his right leg until the six week mark, by which time the CFR would be a week in the books.

Steele didn’t like that news, as the more he’d thought about it, the more he felt sorely disappointed to think that he could end up missing the CFR, and especially because of a flukey accident.

Pronunciation:

Czajkowskys: chaikohvskees

By Chance: Day 3

Word Count: 18,030

Summary of Events:

The Monday immediately after the rodeo, as he'd done every year, Steele immediately returned to work at his winter job at a local feedlot, although he made sure that his boss had him marked as on holidays for the first week of November, when the CFR happened. As part of his job, Steele was given a different horse to ride every so many days, and he learned from his coworker to his immense surprise that the filly he was riding was so valuable she was locked up in the barn at night to ensure she didn't get stolen, and purely because of who her forebears were. He found riding her to be quite enjoyable, leaving him feeling a little reluctant to get off at the end of the day…

Excerpt of the Day:

Standing in the stirrups, Steele let out a quiet sigh of reluctance before drawing his right foot out of the stirrup and bringing it over the filly’s back. He leaned across the saddle seat as he slid his left foot out of its stirrup before sliding down from the saddle. Even if he mounted from the right, he was genuinely more comfortable dismounting from the left, which prompted some people to scratch their heads in confusion as to why, if he, in a way, couldn’t dismount to the right, he couldn’t mount from the left.

Steele draped the reins over the rail and headed into the barn to get the halter and grooming bucket from the tack room. He heard the office doorknob rattle, evidencing that Mr. Winchell hadn’t grabbed it right again.

He was exiting the tack room when Mr. Winchell got the door open, muttering frustrated profanities under his breath.

“That doorknob didn’t want me to catch you,” Mr. Winchell said. “I swear that thing has a will of its own.”

Steele smirked.

“Once you’ve brushed the filly bring her in here and I’ll take care of the feed,” Mr. Winchell said.

Nodding, Steele started off toward the exit.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?” Mr. Winchell asked.

“I’ve already heard,” Steele replied.

“Oh,” Mr. Winchell said, sounding almost disappointed.

Steele carried on to the rail, where he found the filly standing with her head at a low, relaxed level and her hind leg cocked, tilting her hip.

He traded her bridle for her halter and untacked her without her hardly moving a muscle outside of those required to breathe, even as he brushed her, including a vigorous working over the hair that’d been packed into place under the saddle pad and moulded by sweat.

Once he’d groomed her, he carried the tack inside the barn before taking her lead rope and leading her into the barn, where Steele found the stall closest to Mr. Winchell’s office prepared with a clean and cushy bed of straw.

Steele removed the filly’s halter before exiting the stall and closing the door, which he locked, leaving the filly contained securely in the wooden walls of the lower half and the metal bars of the upper half.

He put the halter away and went to the treat area of the tack room, where there was a small bin of oats, as well as a bucket full of bruised apples that the Winchell kids weren’t willing to eat because the bruises were too big or prominent.

Taking up an apple, Steele took it over to the stall and dropped it into the trough that was built into the wall the filly’s stall shared with the adjoining stall.

The filly, who’d been drinking water from the water bucket just inside the door, startled at the sound.

“Sorry,” Steele said softly. “But you should go have a look at what it is.”

Relaxing because the noise didn’t repeat itself, the filly moved toward the trough warily before poking her nose inside. In moments she’d found the apple and bitten into it, taking half of it into her mouth, where she chewed it juicily.

By Chance: Day 2

Word Count: 12,033

Summary of Events:

Steele watched the events of the Hanna Rodeo that preceded his own before going back to where his horse was to get ready for his event, which was the second-last of the night. He went fairly early in the competition and set a time good enough for second place, but with the two ropers he was duelling with for the final slot in the CFR yet to go. The first one, who was holding the coveted slot going into the rodeo, got a time penalty for breaking the barrier, meaning he was out before the calf was released, while the second one set a time only fractions of a second slower than Steele's…

Excerpt of the Day:

Sighing Steele reached forward and rubbed the gelding’s black neck. For being an inferior among superiors, he’d done well, but even though Steele was entitled to greater prize money than the man who’d just gone, Steele wouldn’t get in.

In fact, he’d been unwelcomely presented with the math that told him that if he got third place and neither of his rivals beat him, he would’ve qualified for the finals by a matter of ten cents. If he got second and neither of them beat him, it would’ve been a few dollars advantage, but if one of them got third, he’d be out. If he won and neither of them beat him, it would be a healthy margin of advantage, but if one of them even got third he would be beat by a dollar or two.

As a result, unless the last man to go — who was actually fighting through a minor shoulder injury to finish the season — could get a third-place time, even though he’d do well at his ‘home rodeo’ Steele wouldn’t be in the finals.

Considering he was fighting through a shoulder injury that’d come from being bucked off a young horse he was starting on his farm a couple weeks ago, Steele didn’t anticipate that he was going to be able to come up with the required result, as he’d not done well at the preceding rodeos which had come after the incident.

Nevertheless, he watched as the horse — a chestnut gelding with a broad white blaze down his face and long white stockings up his legs — backed into the corner, then surged forward, the rope sailed through the air, soaring around the calf’s head.

The time was visibly quicker than Steele had expected to see — not that he had, in fact, expected to see a time at all, if he was honest — but Steele had no idea if it was going to be good enough, considering he’d expected the time of his rival to beat him, only for it to fall short of his time by two tenths of a second, not that he did any timekeeping to check against the official timing.

As a result, Steele startled when the announcer proclaimed that the time which had just been set was one scant tenth faster than his own, meaning that he finished the competition down one place from where he’d been, but also pushing the other roper out of the money and sealing his place in the Canadian Finals Rodeo, to be held in just over a month’s time.

This fact was summarily highlighted by the announcer, which prompted a particularly loud and enthusiastic cheer to rise from the partisans in the stands. Steele felt dumbfounded.

The ropers nearest to him in the sideline cluster immediately slapped his back and offered their congratulations, and he belatedly acknowledged the cheering by a raising of his hat before reaching down to rub the neck of the gelding. Somehow they’d actually pulled it off, and Steele couldn’t honestly say that he was entirely processing how it could’ve happened.