A Cowgirl's Rodeo

Chapter 1

"Justin, turn it off!" I yelled, more loose hay being spat into my face. The brown haired twenty-two year old stopped the tractor quickly, jolting me forward. "The damn thing is breaking strings again." I grumbled, hopping off the hay wagon.

Justin was already at the hay baler with the top up, checking the bailing twine. "The baling twine is fine. I betcha it's the knotter again." Justin is the handyman around here. He fixes anything with an engine, all implements that attach to tractors, and anything that requires a hammer and nail. "That old man needs new equipment. I'm sick of having to fix everything."

"You got the money to buy me a new one?" Jerald asked. Jerald was obviously once a large man but time had worn him down, though he still had his good looks. Dark hair, mostly gray now and his all knowing gray blue eyes, that watched our every move. "Now, Anastasia are you going to give me a hand with loading the horses or not?" I just noticed that Jerald had Arthur, a blonde older haflinger, by his side.

"Jerald are you a yank? Cause you sure talk like one." I half-joked, jogging up to him. He just gave me a look as I took Arthur's lead rope. Jerald is a very mysterious man. I'm pretty sure he's from New York or at least somewhere up in the northeast, but nobody knows anything about his past. He doesn't seem to have much money but he talks like a very sophisticated person with a New Yorker's accent. I've been to New York, that's not a accent you forget. "Are you sure taking Art on a trail drive today is a good idea?" I questioned, carefully walking the pony onto the horse trailer attached to Jerald's truck. Arthur was already starting to sweat and he hasn't even done much but walk from the barn to the trailer.

"Justin, forget the baler and come help me with this cart." Jerald barked. He's not the best natured individual, but he's nice enough. He allows me and Trigger to live in his barn for free, other than caring for and training his horses. Everything else, like baling hay and buying and cooking food, I do just cause he's a good man. I'm know he'd let me stay in the house with him and Justin but I've never had the desire to ask so neither has he.

As the two of them put the harness and other tack on the back of the truck, I headed to the unpainted wooden barn to grab Goliath. Goliath's name says it all. He's huge, plain and simple. He's a blue roan belgian paint and about 17 hands to his back. I was going to ride Goliath on the trail drive with Jerald's pony club friends for two reasons. One, he's only five years old and needs miles put on him before I'd consider him broke. Two, my own horse, Trigger, is not a trail horse at all. My dad did not pay $5000 for a registered horse to be ridden on trails. Trigger is purely a barrel horse. She can run that clover pattern in under sixteen seconds but she can not walk or trot calmly for miles. She's how I make my living and how eventually I'm going to have my own ranch and my own herd of horses. I've had her for four years now and she's the only thing I really have left to remind me of my dad.

~

After the trail drive, I was leading Goliath back into the barn, sweat dripping from his black and white flank. He suddenly jerked his head up, facing toward Jerald's long dirt drive way. I looked out and sure enough saw a cloud of dust flying toward us, "Who in hell..." I broke off, seeing a fancy black sports car speeding toward us. Goliath started pacing beside me anxiously, his nostrils flaring.

The car skidded to a stop a few yards from us. I felt my arm being yanked painfully as Goliath reared up over me, so I jumped back before he could come down on top of me. I jerked on the rope holding the spooked horse, regaining control over him. 'Who the hell does this idiot think he is?' I thought to myself. A guy, he couldn't have been much older than me, got out of the car and started to look around with a small sneer gracing his face. He was wearing seemingly expensive black dress pants with a light blue button down, sleeves rolled up of course, it was easily a hundred degrees out, and probably designer sunglasses. "Can I help you?" I asked, annoyance clear in my voice.

He took his dark glasses off and his blue eyes told me he was just as annoyed to be here as I was that he was here. He held my gaze for a moment, then his line of sight quickly shifted to the large animal I was currently handling. "Quite the beast you got there. He's a little big for you, isn't he?" His voice sounded like liquid gold and it made me want to shoot him more. A lady's man through and through, is what he was. Now it may seem a bit rude to judge him so quickly but unless you've handled a spooked 1600 pound mass of fur and muscle when you're less than a tenth of it's weight, I don't want to hear it.

"I'll repeat myself, can I help you?" My southern drawl making it clear I was irritated. He just continued to blatantly check me out, his face expressionless. He was very attractive but the fact that he made it clear that he knew it, made me hate him. His dirty blonde well styled hair, broad shoulders, and I'd guess six feet or more in height, was just too perfect.

"What are you doing here, John Ross?" Jerald asked calmly, but I could tell his eyes held a warning.

John Ross slowly slid his gaze from me to Jerald. "My father sent me. He'd like you to call him now that I'm here." Jerald look irritated with his jaw clenched, eyes closed, and pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes snapped open and he gestured toward his house.

John Ross nodded and started toward the front door, Jerald on his heels. "Anastasia would you please run to town and get something for supper. And Justin, finish putting the horses and tack away." His orders we short and not to be questioned. We couldn't respond anyway because he and the John Ross fellow were already out of sight.

I handed Goliath's lead rope to Justin and walked over to where the truck was. Jerald always kept the keys in the truck. It sounds stupid but everyone knows him and they know he won't hesitate to aim a firearm at you. Whether he'll actually shoot you or not, nobody has tested.

I drove the silver Chevy truck into the main part of Breckenridge and stopped at a small family owned grocery store. A horse was tied out front but in a small town it wasn't completely unusual. I had decided on the way there that Mr. Big City was gonna get a classic country home meal. Homemade fried chicken, fresh green beans, and home fries. He's probably use to fancy gourmet foods, if his clothes and car are anything to go by.

"Anastasia, is that you?" I heard a dainty southern voice squeal from the end of isle I was in. It was a voice I knew all too well.

"Well if it ain't little Miss Cindy Lou. What the heck are you doing in my neck of the woods?" I asked the little blonde. She was my complete physical opposite. She had natural blonde hair, big brown eyes, and was a little petite 5'1. Me on the other hand, am a brunette with blue eyes and a whopping 5'7. But we're about the same personality wise. Both hard working, personable, and grew up at rodeos. I met her when I was ten and we've been best friends ever since. We learned how to barrel race together.

She hugged me tight. It was a little awkward due to height difference but I had missed the little pixie. "My daddy bought a ranch about three miles from here. On my recommendation of course, with you living 'round here and all." She smiled, then glanced out the window at the horse I saw earlier. "Damn boys are gonna get themselves kicked. Willow doesn't like strangers when I'm not around. If you'll pardon me, I'll see you around Ana."

I heard her yelling at the group of boys to "get the hell away from my horse before they get their heads kicked in" and I just laughed to myself. I grabbed the box of tea off the shelf to make sweet tea and checked out, preparing myself for dinner with Mr. City Slicker.

~

We all sat there awkwardly, the only sounds were of us chewing and our forks hitting our plates. I glanced up every now and then, watching John Ross pick at his food but it was obvious he wasn't in any mood to eat.

Finally Jerald broke the silence with a deep sigh. "So, it seems John Ross is going to be stay here for a while. I can't exactly tell you why but as long as he's here, he's going to be helping the two of you with chores and other odd jobs around the farm."

I was dumbfounded. "You've got to be kidding me, Jerald?" I huffed, begging him with my eyes to just laugh and say "Naw, I'm just kidding." 

Mr. Fancy Pants just sat there, with a cold, emotionless stare and it was obvious that he would rather be dead right now. But the questions ran through my head, what was he doing here in this small town? And who had enough power over Jerald that he's being forced to have John Ross stay?

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Well? What do you think? :) Votes?

Anastasia is obviously the picture off to the right --->