May 21, 2015
Souix Falls, North Dakota
The sound of someone knocking on my hotel room door breaks me out of my thoughts. The chain lock rattling against the wood as the door shakes under the force of someones fist. If the person continues their assault, I'm sure it will fall from it's hinges.
I quickly shake my head trying to shake the memories away and snap the belt buckle to the right size and adjust my jeans.
"Lane, come on! I'm starving!" A familiar male voice yells from the hallway. I roll my eyes and crack a smile.
There he was, good ole' Andrew. Right in time.
My best, and most annoying friend, continued to knock and pound on the door of my room until I answered him back. I'm almost entirely sure he woke up the entire floor with his morning shenanigans.
"I'm coming!" I shout with a growl.
"You are? You could've asked me to help! I would have been more than happy to oblige your needs, Lane!" He snickers at his own little comment, finding himself hilarious as usual.
I blush at the fact I'm sure everyone in the entire hotel probably heard his big damn mouth. It was said freaking loud enough. The dirty perv. Always making comments that will embarrass you so bad, you will be sure to never show your face in that same place ever again.
I can't even count with all my fingers and toes when it comes to places I will never go back to because of his stupid ass.
But that's what friends are for I suppose. He is better than hanging out with other women. They are just conniving and cause so much more drama. Trying to accuse you of stealing their man when all you do is make friendly conversations with them. You can't be friends with the opposite sex without someone thinking you like them or want more.
Therefore, that is why Andrew is the only one that knows my first name is Alaina and not Lane. He's the only one I trust these days. And I just decided to give myself the nickname from the get go because I didn't want the other riders to know I was actually a woman. It saved me having to listen to their sexist bullshit.
Besides, I absolutely loved it. It always reminded me of the great Lane Frost. Who, someday, I hoped I would live up to.
"Shut up, Andrew! Just meet me in the lobby for fuck's sake!" I finally yell through the door when I can't take the knocking anymore. He was just about as bad as a woman. Impatient and a big ass whining baby.
It didn't help that he was more than likely hungover and hungry. I'm sure the toilet was his best friend this morning and his stomach was not.
"Fine, but since I was first one ready, your buying breakfast!" He huffed before stomping down the hallway.
I rolled my eyes at his childishness. Always such a damn baby. I'm usually always the first one ready and waiting on his hungover, poky ass to get ready to go.
Sometimes, I even have to help him get into bed the night before. Making sure the waste basket is beside the bed just in case he decides to spew his guts out. Stripping him down to his knickers after he's already decided to get sick on himself. It's fucking never ending with him. He really is like a child. That I wasn't lying about.
Sometimes I eel more ike his mother than his friend.
I put my brown cowboy boots on and grab my wallet, truck keys, and room card and head down to the lobby. Andrew is leaning on a pillar in all his handsome glory. He was a typical black haired, green eyed, well built, male beauty. And, might I say, quite full of himself.
He has an ego as big as Texas.
"Ready, Lane the pain?" He grins, holding out his elbow for me to grab.
"Don't call me that, Andrea!" I smirk, taking his elbow with my hand.
He glares at me. That's right you butthole. Take that one and shove it. I want to pat myself on the back for remembering him in his finest drunken moment.
"How many times do I have to tell you, I was so drunk that night." He groans rubbing his face, as we head outside to my truck.
"You were the one that was so drunk and said you couldn't find your pecker, and ran around freaking out saying 'Oh no! Now I will have to change my name to Andrea.'" I laugh holding my stomach.
"You're never going to forget that are you?" I shake my head no.
That was one of the funniest things I had ever seen in my entire life. And with Andrew, I could write an entire book on the thing's he's said and done while drunk. Although, some were not so nice or funny.
"And neither are the other twenty people that were there." I snicker to myself. "It must be really small if you can't even find it when your drunk."
"Baby, I can assure you that it's not small by any means. I got me a nine inch nail tucked in these wranglers." I can't help but roll my eyes. I seriously doubt that.
"Whatever makes you sleep at night, Andrew. I think I just might have figured out why you can't even seem to keep one buckle bunny and jump from one to another. Is it because they're not fully satisfied and you have to get with their friends before they tell them that you're actually hung like a flea and not a horse?" I have to laugh at the expression on his face. He is so mad but is trying his best not to smile as the corners of his lips start to twitch.
"Fuck you, Alaina!" He growls and stomps away. But I know there's a smile playing on his lips.
"You've tried, remember? I just happened to be the only girl that's ever turned you down!" I yelled, as I ran to catch up to him.
"Just for that smart ass little comment you're buying me drinks tonight." He says triumphantly, with a glare. I huff and put my hands on my hips.
"Only four drinks, and tomorrow breakfast is on you." I try to negotiate the terms. He drinks way too much and will break my bank account if I would let him. I don't even know how he affords it sometimes.
"Deal!" He fist pumps the air. Our little scuffle now forgotten, we shake hands on it and he climbs into the drivers seat of my blue Ford F250 pick up.
Apparently, I am a terrible driver. All because he rode with me in a massive snow storm. He said he needed new underwear by the time we arrived at our hotel. Now, every time we go somewhere he drives and there are no and's, if's, or but's about it. But I am a perfect driver and don't let anyone ever tell you differently. And whose to say the four wheel drive isn't supposed to be used when you end up going off road.
After finishing our breakfast at a small diner down the street from our hotel, we make are way to a local arena where the rodeo is being held. I am grateful it's inside instead of outside, but we aren't always so lucky.
Some days, it will poor down rain when we there is no roof over our heads, and the show must go on. Riding soak and wet, with mud flying every where is not fun. We all look like wet cats and our moods about match the feeling. You manage to get mud in places you never thought possible too.
Andrew and I part ways, and I head out to see my favorite boy. Rebel.
I always bring my old trusty steed, Rebel, with me. We don't compete anymore in barrel racing due to some arthritis forming in his shoulder's. For the longest time I swear he was depressed. I just couldn't bear to leave him behind anymore, he'd lost so much weight when we stopped. And I just couldn't watch him wither away right before my eyes.
After I'd brought him with me the first time, he came alive again. Now we just run barrels for fun before everything starts. That is only if they have an area I can ride or the arena is free. He is still fast, but as usual, age and arthritis are taking its toll on the fifteen year old gelding. I don't want him to get hurt.
Sometimes though, I allow kids to get their pictures taken on him with me, or by themselves after the rodeo is over. He is so good with them. I swear the horse loves the attention too. That and the treats they give him don't help.
I talk to him gently and tell him about my day as I brush him down. Some of his light, honey colored hair starting to turn white now. The black on his nose filling with salt and pepper gray. I dread the day this trusty steed dies. He has been with me through it all and has been my very best friend.
Saddling him up, I lead him toward the the arena. He whinnies at all the other horses he see's as we pass. I let out a laugh as he swings his head trying to get their attention, wanting to play with any other horse who is willing. All of them give a turn of their heads to glance at him, but continue eating their hay and grain. Food is more important at the moment for them.
"Dave, is it okay if I ride for a bit?"I ask throwing the reins over Rebels head.
He is one of the many people that travel on the road with us. He helps set everything up. He is about twenty nine, and is an average looking man. Bright blue eyes and shaggy bright blond hair. Boyishly handsome in a way.
"Sure thing, Lane. Just be out by four o'clock." He grins shaking his head.
"Yes, sir." I laugh and mock salute him as I hop up on Rebel's back.
Warming up a bit, I run him along the fence to stretch his legs. Loosening the tense muscles to prevent any injuries. After about three laps we stop and stand at the starting point. Rebel shuffles his feet underneath me, ready to go.
We take off around the barrels, it feels like we're flying. It's just me and him, like the good old days. The last barrel comes and we round it.
"Let 'er buck!" I shout. As always, he is quick to react and we shoot off like a bullet.
Slowing to a stop, I pet his neck as I stare at all the open seats, just waiting for people to place their butts in them. Inhaling deeply, the smell of horses fills my nose. I love this smell.
I can't help but smile. This is my life. I had come so far from everything, accomplished so much.
Would my mother have been proud of me? My dad wherever he is? I shake my head at the thought of my father. I don't need that negativity he brings to me. I still can't help but wonder where that scoundrel ever wandered off too after he left. If he stayed with the whore he supposedly ran off with? That was the rumor, but I didn't know if it was true or not and I never dared to ask in fear of hurting my mothers feelings.
Sighing deeply, I start to ride out of the arena, towards the stall area, when I hear an all too familiar voice. The voice that had been just a memory for so long.
"Alaina?" I still in the saddle, pulling Rebel to a halt. The breath leaving my lungs, the threads on my heart straining to remain attached as it vigorously pumps inside my chest. I just hoped it didn't rip apart.
It was the last voice I'd ever thought I'd hear. Slowly, I turn Rebel around to face the man who has haunted my memory for years.
"Ryan." I whisper.
My eyes are as big as saucers and I can feel the tears beginning to form.
No! I will not fucking cry! I cried for too long over him. He left me!
I look in those gray eyes, those beautiful eyes I used to lose myself in all those years ago. He looks older now. It's full grown man standing in front of me. His boyish feature gone. He's more muscular, broader, maybe even a few inches taller. His sandy blonde hair is a little longer too.
Stop checking him out, idiot! I scold myself.
We say nothing for the longest time. Just stare at each other. I try to see what he's thinking. He looks almost sad and happy at the same time. His eyes show... Regret? Love?
NO!
He said he didn't love me, he never came back. Those hurtful things he said me. I have ran over that day a thousand times in my head, wondering where I went wrong.
What I did?
Why he never came back?
"It's good to see you." He murmurs, shuffling back and forth on his feet, giving me a sad smile.
You should be sad you dickhead, I think to myself.
"I wish I could say the same." I reply, trying to keep my poker face on, showing no emotion.
Cold.
Heartless.
Distant. That's all I let him see pass through.
His eyes show sadness and hurt but I refuse to acknowledge it anymore. I was wrong about one thing though; love isn't dead to me.
After all this time, I still love him. No matter what he did, I still do. I wish I could just pull the emotion out of me and throw it in a pile of horse shit.
I hate it!
I should hate him, but I don't, and it makes me hate myself more.
He interrupts me out of my thoughts, which I'm almost grateful. I hate all these emotions trying to surface!
"Laina, I-" He starts but I cut him off and glare at him.
"No! Don't you dare use that nickname with me! I'm not your poor, worthless, spoiled brat, farm girl anymore! I don't know that girl anymore! She died that day! All thanks to you!" I spat, using the same words he used on me three years ago. I turn Rebel around and gallop away. Leaving him like he did me, and this time, he was the one that had to watch me leave.
I wanted to ride into the woods next to the arena, and never come back.
How was I going to deal with him for three days? I think I'm going to be sick just thinking about it. I don't know if I can do this!
[*]
Five o'clock and the rodeo is in full swing. The barrel racing has began, and of course, Andrew has all eyes on the cowgirls. He thinks he is quite the ladies man, while, truth be told, most of them run from him, not too him. Why, I have no idea. He gives them winks and they giggle as they walk by. If only they knew how many others he had hooked on his line using those same moves.
The run in with Ryan earlier is eating at me more and more as the day goes on. I just hope he stays away from me. I don't need any distractions, or drama. It doesn't help that I've practically been hiding from him all day like a coward, fearing he may try to corner me and talk to me again. I just want to ride and be left alone.
'Do you really?' My subconscious sneers. 'I think if you had the chance, you would love to give Ryan a ride.' She cackles loudly and I feel my face heat up.
Stupid bitch, anyways. God, I think I'm losing my mind arguing with myself.
"Lane, why don't you do barrels anymore?" A guy, I think his name is Jeff asks me, pushing the thoughts of Ryan to the back of my mind.
"And let you guys have all the fun? I think I'd miss the adrenaline rush." I say shrugging my shoulders and giving my best fake smile.
"No really, Lane, why don't you? You were champion for five years back in Texas. Why did you stop? You were damn good!" He asks again, tipping up his hat up.
"Too many hurtful memories I suppose." I say looking at my feet kicking some dirt as I lean my elbows against the metal fence.
After Ryan left me, I only competed for two more years, while bull riding too. I just recently quit a few months ago, Rebel was getting older and I didn't want to push the old guy.
Bull riding filled that void I had been missing, more than barrel riding could so I just stopped.
It seemed every win I had and very time I received reward, Ryan's memories of the very first time we met are always there. Like I'm waiting for him to hijack my horse again.
He says nothing more and just nods his head. I can feel all of the guys eyes on me but ignore them, watching the last few riders finish up before I put my gear on.
"Andrew Sykes you're next!" Dave shouts. "Lane, your after Andrew." He orders making his way through the crowd of bull riders with his clip board.
I just nod to him and help Andrew get settled on his bull called 'Guns and Roses'. Not a bad bull for him. I pull his rope tight and he gets situated on it's back..
"If I score more points than you, you owe me a kiss, Lane." He gives me a cheshire cat smile. I roll my eyes, but smile back.
"Whatever you say, Andrea." He glares at me.
"For that it's two kisses." He frowns. I laugh shaking my head knowing that will never happen.
He is trying to calm his nerves using our conversation as a distraction. We all step off the fence and I head to the bull I've drawn for today's ride.
Rolling Rock. He is a nasty one and has bucked of nearly twice as many riders than have ridden him for those deadly eight seconds.
In a way, the black and white beast is beautiful I suppose. Muscular, aggressive, stubborn, and powerful with his dark black eyes. Maybe I feel so at home around the beasts because I am so similar to them now. I cannot help but admire the beast in front of me as he stands in the chute.
I watch Andrew ride as I put on my protective vest and gloves. Miraculously, he stays on the whole eight seconds and earns a score of 81.9. I grin at him as some of the guys help me settle myself on Rolling Rocks broad back. He gives me a small wink and runs to the fence after picking himself off of the dirt. As soon as he is over her rushes over and helps me tighten my rope and I rosin my leather glove for grip. I scoot up and ready myself for the gate to open, making the bull stomp underneath me.
"Next up, Lane Stokes." I hear my name being called over the speakers.
It's now or never. In these moments, time slows down, almost freezing. The adrenaline starts to course through my veins and my pupils dilate.
"Let 'er buck!" I yell.
Just like that, the gate flies open and it's just me and the bull.
A two thousand pound beast of pure muscle, spinning and bucking for everything it's worth. Trying it's very best to throw me off. It's like you can feel the power surging through his veins and into mine.
I do my best to find the bulls rhythm and spur him trying to earn more style points. Before I know it, the buzzer sounds.
Letting go of the rope, I jump off as gracefully as I can, keeping my eye on the bull, making sure he goes where he is supposed to. Thankfully, he does. I don't want to make the mistake of turning my back again. I learned my lesson with Smith & Wesson, the devil bull.
"Lane Stokes, ladies and gentlemen with a score or 89.5. That fella's, is what you call one hell of a woman!" The announcer shouts as I throw my fist in the air and the crowd cheers.
I run and climb the fence, Andrew taking my hand to help me down after I climb over, and I see Ryan in the chute, getting ready to ride. His eyes staring into mine and glancing at Andrew's hold on my hand. His jaw tense and eyes turn hard at the sight.
If looks could kill Andrew wouldn't be standing.
I tear my gaze away from him and feel my face flush.
How can that man have this effect on me still?
'You never stopped loving him you dummy. Remember? You gave him your heart.', my thoughts scream.
Thanks for reminding me, I think to myself.
Deep down I still loved him, yes, but I needed to let him go and move on. Maybe now that I saw him again, I could have closure.
"You okay, Lane?" Andrew asks and I give him the best fake smile I can muster.
"I'm good." It comes out more like a squeak.
"Looks like I owe you kisses now." He says grinning. I have to laugh.
"I want nothing to do with those lips, thank you! I have no idea how many 'Buckle Bunnies' those lips have touched." I say in a serious tone putting my hand over his mouth and pushing him away.
"Shut up, Lane! We can't all be a saint like you. You know you need to have a romp in the sheets with a 'Jackelope'." He tears my hand away from his mouth playfully.
What the hell? He is off his rocker. A jackelope?
"Andrew, what the fuck is a 'Jackelope'? And I'm no saint, you just don't know about my romps in the hay." I state raising my brow in amusement. That is not true, I don't sleep around. I have more class than that.
"I really don't know, I just now made it up. It's a rabbit with horns obviously. Anyways, I needed a male version of Buckle Bunny and it just came to me." We both bust up laughing until our stomachs hurt. Then the announcer interrupts our conversation.
"Ryan Adams, with a score of 88.1." I inwardly smirk at the fact that I beat him and walk in the back where I keep Rebel. Andrew joins his other friends to finish watching the rest of the riders compete.
Rebel is happily munching on some hay and I check his feet then start brushing him, trying to occupy my mind. I need to focus.
It seems no matter what I do, I will never escape the memories of him. And now he is here. I sit, blowing my hair out of my face. Quietly, I sit in the corner of the stall and rest my head against the wooden wall, listening to all the sounds around me.
Hopefully I can escape everything for a while and get a nap.