TEXAS LONGHORNS
By
Waddie Greywolf
Chapter
47
The trip back
seemed shorter somehow, I don’t know why. Maybe it was because we
had so much to talk about. We did get some rest while we were on
the road. Most of the time, when it was time to walk the ponies and
change drivers, granddad or I would go to the bedroom and get
some sleep. We even made better time on the return trip.
Granddad
suggested we might have a tail wind. I groaned, but Rocky and
Socks thought his pun was funny.
We arrived at
the Claymore ranch at five-ten in the morning. The Claymores were
already up doing chores. Cindy and the girls were in the kitchen
cooking breakfast. Gip and the boys came out to greet and
congratulate us. He got a call from his dad Sunday afternoon
telling them to expect him and his family sometime Tuesday. They
were leaving early Monday but they weren’t going to push it. They
would stay the night in El Paso or Fort Stockton.
We unloaded the
ponies and Gip and granddad took them to the barn. I parked the
double ‘R’ in its space, but I didn’t hook it up. I told Gip I’d
wait and hook it up the following weekend. I think Curtis wanted
to get on the road back to the ranch right away, but Gip wouldn’t hear
of it until we had breakfast with them. He told Curtis his
grandson needed to eat, he was still a growing boy. Granddad
raised an eyebrow at his nonsense, but good naturedly agreed with
him. We had a great breakfast and told the Claymores about the
miraculous things we experienced over the weekend. They
couldn’t believe Socks was pregnant with Rocky’s foal. We
told him Griz confirmed it.
We finally got
on the road to the Lazy 8 and made good time. It was all blacktop
country roads, and there wasn’t much traffic on a Monday morning.
We arrived at the ranch a couple of hours later. We put our gear
away, said ‘hello’ to Will, and went to the remuda to get a pony.
By this time, Curtis and I only had to think of a pony we’d like to
work with and they’d be there waiting. Big Red was waiting for me
and one of Granddad’s favorites was waiting for him. Red kept
trying to get into my head. He was curious about our weekend and
about his friend Socks. Beyond niceties, I told him I’d tell him
when I told my partner, but I assured him he was in for a pleasant
surprise.
<< We
heard all about you and your grandsire winning the rodeo in Tucson.
>> he told me.
I assumed
correctly, they overheard Bart telling everyone. I called
him on his cell phone I gave him for his birthday. I included a
years service so he could keep in touch with me and his family.
It’s a great tool to have on the ranch, when you can’t find your
partner. Big Red continued,
<< I’m
right proud of my man-colt, Casey. >>
<< Thanks,
Red,— coming from you, ‘at’s just about the best compliment a cowboy
kin git. You proud enough of me to think on me as yore’
‘man-stallion’ yet? >> I laughed, teasing him.
<< Not
yet, man-colt. I done told ju’ not to hurry none about git’n
there. You’ll be there plenty damn quick, but once I tell
you, you’s a ‘man-stallion,’ you cain’t never go back. You done
told me and your grandsire you wanted to be a cowboy for several
seasons ‘cause you didn’t want the responsibilities what comes with
maturity right now. ‘Side ‘at, I still got a few things to teach
my man-colt. You don’t worry yore’self none about it, Big Red
will let chu’ know when you’s a ‘man-stallion.’ >> I
heard him laugh. He was in a good mood and I could tell he was
happy to have me back. Ponies worry sometimes about the ones they
love.
<< I’ll
trust yore’ judgement, Red. If’n you cain’t trust yore’ pony’s
judgement,— who’s a man-colt to trust? >>
<< Well
said, man-colt,— that statement brought you one giant step closer to
becoming a man-stallion. >> we shared a laugh.
Curtis looked
over at me and grinned. He no longer asked. He knew I was
talking with one of the ponies, probably Red, and was laughing at
something he said. I told him what Red told me and we shared a
laugh.
“Red’s a wise
pony, Son. I think you should listen to him. I don’t want
chu’ grow’n up too fast. My old heart aches sometime ‘cause I
missed seeing you grow up. I ain’t in no hurry for you to git
there neither. ‘Sides,—” he paused, “yore’ old grandpappy’s got a
lot to learn from his grandson, and you jes’ might learn a thing or two
from me.”
“I already have,
Boss man. I’ve learned a lot from you this past year.”
We caught up
with the others and they all gathered to hear us tell about our trip
and rodeo experience. It was a lazy day so Curtis let us
sit around on our ponies and jaw for a little while with each
other. I didn’t tell them about the miraculous parts. I was
saving that for my partner, but we covered the parts that was of most
interest to them. We told them we were pretty sure we had at
least six out of the dozen men we talked with coming to cowboy with
us. They were happy to hear that, and we still had the Chapel
Creek rodeo to recruit a couple. Curtis told them he was
optimistic about our prospects for some good, solid, hard working
buckaroos.
I asked
Granddad how we were going to choose from among the men who might
actually show up. He told me we’d take them all on for a trial
period of six weeks. He said some would drop out after the first
two weeks, more after the next two weeks and by the end of the six
weeks, if too many were left, we’d cull the herd. Sounded good to
me. Every man would be given an equal chance to prove
himself. I began to think about all the men we talked with.
Most were genuine cowboys, but I wondered if one middle aged man who
talked with us in Tucson would come for the trial period. He was
an unusual character to say the least.
He was a tall,
raw boned, strange looking man with a large nose that gave a slight
hook on the end and ears that stuck out from his head to rival
Dumbo’s. He reminded me of the Disney character “Ichibod Crane”
from the film “The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow.” I think he purposely
waited until the other cowboys talked with us and went their way.
We were getting ready to leave, when I saw him walking toward us.
I’d seen him looking at granddad and me in a strange way, but I
couldn’t imagine what he might be thinking. I would never touch
the man’s mind to find out. His private thoughts were none of my
business. I couldn’t tell if he was looking at us with lust, envy
or nostalgia. I learned much later, it was an equal mixture
including a bit a melancholy. As he walked toward us I noticed
his gait was not like a regular cowboy’s.
He didn’t walk
with his hips slung slightly forward, slinging his boots from side to
side in the typical cowboy swagger. Instead he walked like his
knees were not happy with each other and kept a constant battle going
on about which one should be in what place at any given time. He
looked like he might have suffered rickets as a child. He didn’t
place the ball of his foot down first like a normal man or cowboy might
walk. He very carefully place one foot in front of the other with
his complete foot hitting the ground at the same time.
He was dressed
in what looked like a pair of designer jeans that were too short for
his lanky height and didn’t come to the bottom of his expensive looking
pair of cowboy boots. Cowboy’s call it a ‘high water’ look which
is a none too subtle put down of folks who don’t know how to dress
‘cowboy.’ He was wearing a nice enough Western shirt but it just
seemed out of place to the rest of his ensemble. He had on a
straw hat that looked like he got it out of a time machine from the
sixties. It was too sharply turned up on the sides and curved
back in at the top to look like it was something a Victorian stealth
engineer might design or an abbreviated male version of the flying
nun. I imagine him being blown away in a stiff wind,
carried up to the jet stream by his supersonic cowboy hat.
On the front of
his hat was a fan or spay of multicolored feathers. There was a beaded
tassel hanging down the back with more feathers that blew about in the
breeze as he walked. His hair was shoulder length and tied into a
pony tail at the back. It seemed to flow out from beneath his
strange looking hat and only added to his peculiar look. He
looked like a disco cowboy reject from the seventies. My first
impression was, the man had no clue how to dress Western and his attire
was a bad attempt or parody on cowboys. If I wasn’t a cowboy and
taught to be considerate, I might have thought his dress was almost a
deliberate attempt to insult buckaroos everywhere. He came to us
and spoke to granddad first. He shook Curtis’ hand and then mine.
“Gentlemen, my
name is Evelyn Le Fleur.” he introduced himself in all
seriousness. His voice sort of startled me. I was expecting
a rather highpitched voice. Instead, Mr. Le Fleur had a, deep,
fluid, masculine, baritone tenor of his speech which was rich and full
of Western twang and patterns; a decided dichotomy from his
appearance. He pronounce his first name accentuating the ‘E’ as
a long vowel that came out as ‘Evil-lun.’ I almost laughed, but I
knew better. He never bothered to explain his name. Because
of his confident delivery, it was
as if he never considered we might find it strange, and just expected
it to be accepted as one cowboy to another; there was neither any
discussion
nor explanation needed. Curtis introduced himself and me to Mr.
Le Fleur.
“I’d like to
congratulate you gentlemen on your performance today. I was most
impressed with your skills, and Mr. Longhorn, you are an exceptionally
talented, fine looking young man. Congratulations on winning the
calf roping competition. I can tell your granddad is very proud
of you, and well he should be. You men’s unusual eyes speak
volumes about your love for one another. It’s nice to see in this
day and age.”
He had me at
‘exceptionally talented.’ We graciously thanked him for his
praise, granddad admitted he was more than a bit proud of me, and
his observations were correct, we loved each other very much. Mr.
Le Fleur explained he attended the rodeo because he was in town for the
funeral of a dear friend and decided to stay over for the
weekend. He explained he had made a fortune as a young man, lost
it all, but picked himself up and made his fortune back again. He
was retired, and he didn’t have to work anymore if he didn’t want to;
however, now, he was widowed, his children grown and scattered,
he was bored with his life and looking for something to do to fill the
void. It mattered little to him what the pay might be, but some
recompense for a job well done was, in a way, a welcome sign of
appreciation.
He explained how
he had a rough childhood and was left on the doorstep of his great
uncle, a widower living by hiimself on a ranch in Wyoming, who never
had any children. His uncle reluctantly took him in with the
understanding he
had to work for his keep. He told us he was in the saddle
from the time he was a boy of ten and remained a cowboy until he was
almost twenty. He worked everyday on the ranch for his meager
upkeep provided by his uncle. He said he knew his way
around horses and was pretty good with a rope; although, he admitted he
hadn’t roped in years. While it was a rough life, he remembered
it as
being one of the happiest times of his life. He said he quickly
learned in the cowboy world a man wasn’t judged by his name or
appearance, but
by his work and his abilities. He heard the announcement we were
hiring and wondered if it might be a chance for him to reclaim some of
that happiness.
Strangely
enough, I sat aside my prejudice of his dress and began to feel some
empathy for him. I was doing the same thing he was talking
about. I was trying to prolong a part of my youth to seek that
carefree happiness and contentment; however, I thought for sure,
granddad would be put off by him, and graciously explain to him we were
looking for younger, working cowboys who could hit the ground
running. My grandsire had another surprise in store for me.
Curtis was warm, generous, and gracious with the man. He gave him
his card and a couple of brochures. He told him if he was still
interested after the Fourth of July to contact him and arrange a visit
to the ranch to look it over. He told the man of the trial period
for all cowboys and while he was looking for certain things in his men,
he considered himself a fair minded man.
Mr. Le Fleur
thought the trial period was a great idea for both parties. He
allowed it certainly would be plenty of time for him to decided if he
wanted to continue, if he was fortunate enough to be considered for
hiring. He understood he would be coming to the job in a less
than optimal position having to use skills he hadn’t used in years, but
he was hoping it was like anything a man learns to do well,— he never
forgets how to do it. He and Curtis talked for sometime, then Mr.
Le Fleur graciously thanked us, shook our hands, said his goodbyes and
left with a smile on his face.
“You was right,
Grampa. I still got me some things to learn from you.”
“You mean
because I was nice to the man and didn’t turn him away?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I couldn’t,
Son. If’n he really was a cowboy at one time, he knows about the
cowboy way, and he could tell in an instant if I was being dishonest
with him or trying to shine him on. Chances are, we may never
hear from him again, but if we do and he’s interested, I don’t see no
reason not to give the man a chance. He may look funny to us now,
but trust me, if he works out, in six months you won’t be able to tell
him from one of the other buckaroos. Men have a way of want’n to
blend in to be accepted. If’n I was a betting man, I’d wager he
probably can hold his own with most of our buckaroos.”
I wouldn’t
accept granddad’s bet if he offered. I had a feeling he was a
better judge of horseflesh than I probably would ever be. I
thought about granddad’s comments and remembered when I was talking
with Big Red. I realized I had a lot to learn from both.
* * * * * * *
I finally was
alone with my saddle partner. I told Bart everything that
happened, and he marveled at my story. He never looked like I was
telling him a tall tale. I think he believed every word.
“Only you,
brother,—” was all he said, as he smiled and shook his head.
Bart was looking
forward to the Fourth of July Rodeo and us roping together. Like
most of the smaller rodeos they allow you to rope with multiple
partners. You pay your entry fee as a team, you rope as a
team. Bart knew I would be roping with my granddad as well.
* * * * * * *
It was a short
week, and it flew by. It was like I laid down to sleep that first
night, but when I woke up the next morning, it was Thursday.
Curtis told Wade to have us knock off work about eleven so those going
into town could be ready to go by noon. Will had sack lunches for
us to eat on the way. All the cowboys going into Chapel Creek
were loaded and ready to go by a quarter ‘til twelve.
Spirits were
high as we ate our lunches and drove into town. Brett and Curt
planned to enter several events at the rodeo. They were going to
enter team roping, but Curt was going to enter the saddle bronc event
and Brett the bull riding event. The Lazy 8 would be well
represented at the Chapel Creek rodeo.
We got to the
sheriff station and the sheriff, his deputies and secretaries
came out to greet us. Gip was so glad to have his boys home for
the last time. Granddad and I said ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ to
Hank and Brent Conners. They came to pick up Bart and said they
were looking forward to seeing us the next day at the rodeo and
picnic. Hank was impressed, the sheriff himself personally called
to invite him and Brent along with Bart. They left and Gip pulled
me aside.
“Think yore’
granddaddy would let you hang around the station with me for a spell to
discuss a few things about the rodeo tomorrow, Son?” the sheriff
asked in a needy voice. I laughed at him.
“Don’t think
he’d have no problem with it, Sheriff Claymore, but I didn’t git around
to hooking up the coach before I left. He won’t have no lights or
water if he goes out there to wait for me.”
“No problem, I
done hooked it up for you. I opened it up to air it out a
bit. H’it’s open and all set.” he grinned at me.
“You
turkey.” I said lovingly to him and grinned real big. He
threw back his handsome head and roared with laughter. I laughed
with him. Gip was so terminally full of himself, of love and
life, he was contagious. He’d thought of everything.
I told him I’d ask granddad. I walked over to Curtis. He
saw me and Gip talking and the smile on my face as I approached
him. He had a wry smile on his face. He knew what Gip
wanted.
“Uhh,— Mr.
Langtry, Sir,— the sheriff would like to know if’n it’s all right with
you if I might hang around the station with him for a while to talk
about the rodeo tomorrow, and he’ll bring me on out to the ranch in a
bit?”
“Why, I don’t
mind, Son. Gimme’ yore’ key to the coach, and I’ll be there
wait’n for you. I’ll get myself cleaned up.”
“I’d rather you
wait, Sir.” I smiled as I handed him the key.
He got my
message, grinned and shook his head. He leaned in close to say
something the others couldn’t hear.
“‘Air’s zonely
one Rodeo that man wants to talk to you about, Son, and h’it ain’t the
one tomorrow.” he laughed, “You tell the sheriff I said he better
damn well leave me big ole help’n.”
“Ah, hell,
ramrod,— there’s always plenty for you, Sir.” I assured him.
I got my small
bag I needed, and the truck departed for the ranch with the
cowboys. Gip invited them all to stay at the Claymore’s over the
holiday. Little Gip and Waddie Buck weren’t the least surprised I
was staying for a while with their dad. They both knew what my
small bag contained. They were good men. They didn’t mind
sharing their dad, or their brother for that matter. They grinned
and told me to have a good time. I told them I always did.
I was surprised
when we walked into the station, there was hardly anyone
there. Only two deputies were on duty. Gip let
everyone go when we arrived to get ready for the weekend. The
Fourth of July was a big event for the small town. Gip closed
down the station for Thankgiving, Christmas and the Fourth of July
rodeo. The only time he’d have anyone there during the holidays
was if they had a prisoner waiting trial or being transferred.
Then he’d only have one man left to guard. They didn’t have
anyone in jail so he was closing down for tomorrow. The two
deputies would only have to work until ten and then they could go home
to their families.
Gip told his
deputies we weren’t to be disturbed. He’d check back with them in
a while, then we’d be heading out to the ranch. They smiled and
assured him they wouldn’t let anyone disturb us. They were no
dummies. They knew what the sheriff and I were up to. Gip
treated his men with respect and they respected him in return. If
a new deputy said something bad or off color about the sheriff, he
didn’t last long.
I followed Gip
to his apartment. He closed and locked the door behind us.
I threw my bag on the bed and opened my arms to him. He came to
me like a little boy who hadn’t seen his best bud in a while, except
the kiss he planted on me was far more than brotherly. I
certainly didn’t mind. ‘I can always use me some of the sheriff’s
brand of love’n,’ I told myself and kissed him back with equal passion.
“Damnation,
Son! I ain’t had me no piece of yore’ fine cowboy butt in a
while. What? Maybe twice since Christmas? You’s all
a’ time busy with O.C., Bubba and his boys, Bart Conners and his
family, or you got one a ma’boys bunk’n it in with you at the
ranch. You ain’t even got together with yore’ poor old grandpappy
much. I’m glad ya’ll could git away last weekend together. It
done him a world of good. Cindy and talked about ya’ll and we
swore ya’ll came back from Tucson changed men.”
Gip handed me a
glass with two fingers of Comfort in it. We clinked glasses and
took a sip.
“Yes, Sir,— but
that weren’t my fault, Sheriff. Granddad made the weekend
assignments ‘cause he said he didn’t wanna’ monopolize me. He
wanted me to be available to those I love. He knows Ocie and I
are close to say nothing of Bubba. I love both them men like
they’s part of our greater family. Of course, Ocie’s my uncle.”
“Your granddad
is a good man. I can understand him not wanting to feel like he’s
smothering you. I’m shore’ ‘nuff glad he feels that way.”
“He told me to
tell you, you better leave him a big old help’n a’ my butt.”
Gip roared with
laughter.
“Don’t know’s I
can, Son.” he said in a concerned voice, “I’s got me the
powerful hongries for some good, tight cowboy ass,— but I’ll do my
best.”
We laughed
again. I excused myself and went to the bathroom to clean
myself. When I returned he was ready and waiting in the
bedroom. I brought my drink in and set it on the night
stand. I crawled up into his big, cowboy arms and felt like I was
home. We lay there together for a while stealing kisses from each
other.
“I’m sorry we
ain’t got together more, Sheriff. I always feel like I’s home
when I crawl up into your arms like this, and we have us an afternoon
rodeo.”
“‘At’s the way I
want you to feel, Son. You’re as welcome in these arms as my
other boys, and if’n I ever meet yore’ daddy, I’m gonna’ tell him
so. I’m gonna’ tell him he better git used to the idea he’s
gonna’ have to share you. Hell, I have a feel’n, the way you and
Curtis talk ‘bout chore’ old man, he’d probably love my boys.”
“I done show’d
him pitchers of you, little Gip and Waddie Buck. He told me
he’d love to meet cha’ll sometime.”
“I know I’d
enjoy meet’n him. Now, — you ready to rodeo, buckaroo?”
“Oh, hell, yes,
Sheriff. My saddle’s hot and ready for a good ride’n from
my cowboy sheriff.” I laughed.
“Oh, fuck!
Don’t talk like ‘at, boy. You gonna’ have me dump’n my load
before I kin mount up.”
Gip took the
towel I brought in with me, popped the plug out of my ass and swiftly
but surely replaced it with his fine dick. He sunk it into me as
far as he could get it. He collapse on top of me with a heavy
sigh like he felt like he was home. I threw my arms around him,
and locked my legs around his waist. I was glad to be home and
glad my cowboy dad was home in my ass.
“Oh,
shit!” he said quietly.
“What’s a
matter?” I asked.
“I kin tell the
way yore’ little hole is feel’n you need another one a them hard
ride’ns from the sheriff. ‘At little ass feels mighty hongry to
me.”
“Yore’ right,
Sheriff. It is a bit peckish. I have to admit, I ain’t had
me no good, hard ride’n in a while. I shore’ ‘nuff could use me
one a’ them Sheriff Claymore’s special fuck’ns.”
“You got it,
cowboy. Lay back and enjoy the ride.”
And that’s
exactly what I did. Aside from his boys, I knew Gip had very few
males he could be intimate with. He told me when his dad was home
they would find time to get off together and share a little love, but
now that Master Waddie had Titus, he didn’t feel like
intruding.
Gip was always a
fine fuck. This time was no different. He rode me down hard
and strong. He had us both about to climb the walls when I felt
my climax boiling up inside me. I quietly yelled to him I
couldn’t hold it no longer. Once he felt my sphincter spasm
around his big, rutting cock, it felt so good to him he shot and shot
into my ass. We lay there together dripping with sweat. He
was laying on top of me, and we were making a little more love. I
thought to myself, this was the perfect way to begin the Forth of July
weekend,— with a big bang. What better way to celebrate
than to have the sheriff of the county shoot his big, roman candle up
my butt. I felt like Gip had me on the end of his sky rocket and
after lift off we had just reached
apogee.
We cleaned up
together in his shower. Gip enjoyed me pampering him and
carefully bathing him like I did so many time with my old man.
When I washed his penis, I couldn’t help giving it a little extra love
for his performance earlier. The next thing I knew I was trying
to swallow it whole and didn’t stop until it exploded in my
mouth. I sucked him dry. Gip groaned as he shot for the
second time. We quickly finished up, got dressed and started for
the ranch in Gip’s big truck.
“Thanks for
that, Son. I guess you could tell I needed some cowboy love’n
from my boy.”
“I should be the
one thanking you, Sheriff. Ain’t had me know better fuck’n, Sir.’
I asked him on
the way if the local community of Apache Indians would be at the rodeo
and picnic again this year.
“Oh, yeah.
H’it’s an annual tradition. Chief Red Moon done stopped by last
week, and I took him to lunch at the café. He told me they
were looking forward to it. You know Garth Yellow Hawk’s a member
of their tribe, and he’s one of their best fancy dancers.
They perform ever’ year at the rodeo and sometimes at the picnic.”
“When did your
dad and his family get to Chapel Creek, Sir?”
“They arrived
late Tuesday afternoon. Since that time they’ve just been
relaxing and rodeoing. My dad’s really proud of you and
yore’ granddad for winning in Tucson. He and Titus have been
practicing and their times are getting better. I know him, if you
win, you win because you’re the best and he’s gonna’ push you to the
limit.”
“I know, but
that don’t stop me none from love’n him.”
“It shouldn’t,
he loves you, too. We got a surprise yesterday afternoon.
Dan Yates, Cowboy and Griz drove out to be with us for the
Fourth. They brought Cowboy’s big GMC motor coach. It’s
older, but they’ve kept it up,— h’it’s in great shape. It
makes our coaches look like something from the ‘Grapes Of
Wrath.’ Gip chuckled.
“That’s great
news. I know granddad will be glad to have them here and so will
I.”
“Bubba and O.C.
are already at the ranch waiting on Vince and Seth. I invited them up
for the weekend, and they’re staying at the ranch. This is gonna’
be the biggest crowd we’ve had stay at the ranch in years. I love
it, the more the merrier.”
“I don’t know
how you and Cindy do it, Sheriff.”
“We got lots of
help, and we don’t do it but a couple of times a year. Look at
you, you’re all the time volunteer’n to help me, Cindy or the boys git
something done. I done told ju’ you didn’t have to pay us no
space rent for your coach. Hell, we all think on you and Curtis
as family.”
“Naw,— now you
agreed to it, Sheriff, and I’m a’ hold’n you to it. A cowboy
don’t never go back on his word, you know that, h’it jes’ ain’t the
cowboy way.”
“I know, I
know,— Lord don’t preach to me about the cowboy way. My
granddaddy and my dad spoon fed me the cowboy way since I’s old enough
to understand. Cain’t says it ain’t kept me in good stead with my
family and the people in my community. I wouldn’t be where I am
today without it.”
“All right,
then, I told ju’ at the beginning I wouldn’t do it less’n you allowed
me to pay you something. You’s all the time feed’n us and our
ponies. Now, Ms. Socks is with foal, she don’t wanna’ leave
Rocky. She wants to have her baby here. I need to pay you
some more for her upkeep.”
“Don’t be
silly. We’ll take care of Socks like she’s our own. If the
good Lord singled her out to have a gelding’s colt, she’s gotta’ be
pert-damn special. We’d be honored to take care of her.”
* * * * * * *
We arrived at
the ranch and everyone stopped what they were doing to come greet
us. All the cowboys were rodoeing and were in their cowboy
gear. Granddad was in his full gear except he didn’t have his
spurs on yet. I guessed correctly, he was waiting for me to help
him with them. He had Rocky and Socks saddled up and waiting just
outside the arena. Everyone laughed at them. They were
obviously so much in love with each other. They saw everyone
greeting me and moseyed over to pay their respects.
Lord, it was
like a family reunion. Bubba, Ocie, Dan Yates, Cowboy, my
beloved giant Griz, Master Waddie, Titus, Harley, Cass, and all the
others of Master Waddie’s family. There was much hugs and kisses.
After I greeted everyone. I walked out to the double ‘R’ with
granddad. When we got to the coach, I took him by his hand
and led him to the bedroom. I pulled him down on top of me on the
bed. We kissed and continued to make a little love. Laying on top
of me with all his gear on, made me get hard. He was hard, too.
“Ju’ have a good
time with the sheriff, buckaroo?” he asked with a grin.
“I don’t never
compare the men I love, Grampa, h’it just ain’t right, but our
sheriff,— he’s one hell of a man. I told him what chu’
said. He damn near laughed his ass off. I think there’s
plenty left for you, though.”
He ran his rough
hand down my backside and gently felt around my ass like he was
checking it out.
“Are you
kidding?” he scoffed, “They ain’t a plug nickle’s worth left back
there. ‘At big cowboy done used it all up.” he joked.
“Naw, Grampa,—
my hole’s a renewable resource,— it snaps right back.” I laughed,
“ ‘Sides, you’d be surprised what a plug nickle will buy you in this
coach.” I teased him.
“We’ll see ‘bout
‘tat later. In the meantime, help me with my spurs and git chore’
gear on. Your Master and his mate’s been rodeoing all day and
they been making some damn good runs. We gotta’ git our cowboy
butts out there and practice.”
I helped Curtis
with his spurs as he sat on the side of the bed. He’d gotten use
to me doing small chores for him. He loved the attention and I
loved taking care of him. Kneeling before him, smelling his
strong masculine scent, the leather of his boots and chaps was too much
for me. As I was strapping the second spur to his boot, I spoke
to him quietly.
“May I pay
homage to your boots, ramrod?”
“You wanna’ be
my slave this afternoon, boy?”
“Yes, Sir,
Boss,— I’d be right proud to be your slave this afternoon.”
“All right
then,— you have my permission to pay homage to my boots.”
We went through
the ritual, and as I kissed him, I could feel him growing strong in his
Wranglers. I quickly undid his Wranglers, put my hand in like a
kid looking in a ‘Crackerjack’ box, and found my prize. I pulled
out his big, tumescent cowboy cock and chowed down. I proceeded
to give my straw boss a damn good blow job. Somehow, it was
easier in his mind for me to service him if I became his slave for the
afternoon, and the ritual became the seal of our contract. I got
Curtis cleaned up and gently returned his dick to his Wranglers.
He pulled me up to him and gently kissed me.
“You’re a good
boy, Son. You take good care of this old man.”
“I enjoy taking
care of you, Grampa. I love you.”
“God knows, I
love you, too, Casey.”
* * * * * * *
We spent the
afternoon rodeoing with the other cowboys. Gip invited the
Conners to rodeo with us and have supper. They arrived shortly
after granddad and I walked out to join the others. Curtis and I
went to greet them. I helped Bart unload his pony from his
trailer. Brent complained his daddy wouldn’t let him bring his
pony Scratch. I empathized with him, but I told him he could ride
with me some. I think Brent had bigger fish in mind. He’d
been eyeing Curtis for sometime. The boy had good taste in cowmen.
I introduced
them to everyone they didn’t know. Brent was taken with all the
cowboys; especially, Harley Boone and Mutt. The little shit
had great taste in cowboys, he fell in love several times over.
He thought Bubba and Uncle Ocie were two fine looking cowboys, but he
thought the big ugly cowboy Mr. Claymore with his handsome companion
Titus was pert-damn fine, too.
But there was no
doubt in anyone’s mind who his favorite was. He was most taken
with his daddy’s ramrod. He told me in reverent tones, Mr.
Langtry reminded him of my dad. It was amusing to everyone
there. The hard, stoic old cowboy my granddad seemed at first
glance, melted when Brent ran to his open arms to hug and kiss him.
“Oh, Mr.
Langtry,— you look jes’ like yore’ son, Sir.” Brent said to him
with enthusiasm.
Brent’s
statement sort of caught granddad off guard.
“Casey ain’t my
son, young’un, he’s ma’grandson.”
“No, Mr.
Langtry,— I mean yore’ son in California, my other granddad Mr.
Longhorn. Him and Casey was so good to me and my dad. He
went in with me when I had my operation. I love him so much, Mr.
Langtry. I know my daddy works for you, but he also tells me he
loves you’n Casey. He said you’s a fine cowboy and a good
man. I ain’t never told him, but I think on Casey as my other
dad. Since I think on Mr. Longhorn as ma’other granddad,
I’s kinda hope’n, if’n you come to love me and think I’s worthy
enough, maybe you might consider allowing me to think on you as
ma’great granddad, Sir.”
Bart started to
say something to Brent for his boldness, but I caught his eye and shook
my head for him not to. We watched as granddad hugged the boy a
little tighter and stole a kiss. A tear rolled down the old cowboy’s
cheek.
“I forgot you
met my son, young’un. From ever’ thing Casey and yore’ daddy
tells me about you, I’d be honored and right proud to think on a
fine, young cowboy like you as my great grandson.”
“Y’ain’t hear’d
from yore’ son yet, Mr. Langtry?” Brent asked in a concerned
voice.
“No, Son, I
ain’t,— but I ain’t lost hope none.” Curtis said sadly.
“You’ll hear
from him, Mr. Langtry.” Brent allowed with conviction. “I know
Mr. Longhorn. He’s a good man like my brother, Casey. He
wouldn’t never let me down.”
“From the
mouth’s of babes.” said Hank Conners to granddad as he took Brent
from him.
“He’s a fine
young man, Mr. Conners.”
“Thanks, Mr.
Langtry,— we’s kinda fond of ‘em.” he laughed.
* * * * * * *
We got into some
serious rodeoing. Bart and I made several runs together and our
times were up there with the best; however, granddad’s and my times
were still the best. We kept beating Master Waddie and Titus by
one or two seconds. The sheriff and little Gip were roping really
well. Little Gip and his little brother Waddie Buck were rivaling
all our times. I wondered if during their time together at the
ranch they bonded. Brothers sometimes don’t get along with each
other; not so with little Gip and Waddie Buck. In the year they
worked, ate, and slept together, no one every heard them say a bad word
to one another.
Granddad and I
roped with anyone who asked us. We each roped with Master Harley
and Cass. Bart roped with a lot of the other men. He and
Master Waddie roped well together. Bart really seemed to enjoy
roping with the sheriff, and he roped well with his boss; however, at
the end of the day, the best times were granddad’s and mine. The
next best time was me and Bart’s. When Gip and his dad
roped together, they gave us close competition. I wasn’t
worried. I knew my insurance policy would be paid in full that
evening.
Gip called a
halt to the rodeoing late in the day. He didn’t want to overwork
the ponies, and it was a warm afternoon. He wanted them to be
fresh for tomorrow. Bart, Brent and his dad were going to drive
back to Spring Hill for the night after supper, but Gip offered to let
Bart leave his pony at the ranch. He told Bart he would bring his
pony to the rodeo in the morning and bring it back again the second day
of the rodeo so his pony wouldn’t have to make four trips to and from
Spring Hill. Bart thanked him and agreed.
Granddad, Bart,
Hank, Brent and I walked to the double ‘R’ after putting the ponies up
to wash up for supper. Brent was excited to see my motor
coach. We took off our rodeo gear and cleaned up. Bart left
with his dad and Brent to take his gear out to his truck.
He said they’d meet us for supper at the big house. Granddad and
I put on fresh clothes and cleaned up. We left the trailer and
began to walk to the house. All the cowboys were gathered outside
talking to the Sheriff.
Gip saw us
coming, excused himself from the men and walked toward us. He
told me to walk on and join the other cowboys, he wanted to talk with
my granddad. He put his big arm around Curtis, pulled him up
tight and began to walk away from the group so he could talk privately
with him. When he was satisfied he was out of earshot of the men he
spoke.
“Casey done told
me what chu’ said. It was awful damn hard, but I done managed to leave
you half, ramrod.” he laughed.
“Half? Are
you kidding? I felt around back there after he come home, and I
told him he ain’t got a plug nickle’s worth left.” Curtis played
along and Gip roared with laughter. “He done told me, I’d be
surprised what a plug nickle might buy me.” they laughed
again. “Lucky for me, I got me a pocketful of plug
nickels.” Curtis grinned at him. You could hear Gip laugh
all over the property. They were sharing a joke between them at
my expense. “You’re a lucky man,
Mr. Langtry, and Casey’s lucky to have you for a granddad. He’s a
special cowboy in my book. I couldn’t love him more if’n he was
ma’own son.”
“Thanks,
Sheriff,— I think he’s pert-damn special, and I know he thinks the
world of you and yore’ family.”
“Now, lemme’
tell you a little secret about chore’ grandson. . .”
* * * * * * *
We gathered
around the table, and held hands. Gip asked granddad to say
grace. Curtis prayed for all the cowboys who would participate in
the rodeo the next day, to keep them safe from harm and for everyone to
have a good time. He remembered to be grateful for the food we
were about to eat and ask God to bless us all. We all said ‘Amen’
and sat down to a wonderful supper.
After supper, we
sat around and talked for a while. Brent crawled up in his
granddad’s lap and went to sleep. Hank told Bart they’d better
get their little buckaroo home to bed, he had a big day. Hank was
right, at one time or other he was riding in the saddle with every
cowboy on horseback. Hank admitted he was a bit tuckered
himself. We said goodbye to the Conners and they left to return
to Spring Hill. I told Bart we’d be looking for them in the
morning. He left his horse trailer at the sheriff’s because
he wouldn’t need it until after the rodeo on Saturday.
Granddad and I
talked a bit more with the men and decided to go to the double
‘R.’ Dan Yates, Cowboy and Griz decided to walk with us.
Their coach was parked in one of the RV spaces near us. It was a
wonderful, warm, Texas, summer night with fireflies flitting about and
whippoorwills calling to each other. Every now and then you could
hear a prairie chicken making its unique cry. We said
goodnight to them and went inside the double ‘R.’ I closed and
locked the door behind us.
“Y’ont a sip a’
Comfort, Grampa?” I asked him.
“That would put
a nice cap on the day.” he replied.
I poured two
small glasses and handed him one as I sat down on the couch in the
livingroom. I was going to sit for a minute and then go to the
bathroom and clean up, but I had the feeling he wanted to talk a bit.
“What’s yore’
plans for the next year, Casey.” he asked quietly.
“Everyone seems
to be interested in what I wanna’ do. I guess that’s good.”
“It is,
Son. People love you and wanna’ know you ain’t gonna’ jes’ up and
leave ‘um. Aside from the fact I’m yore’ grandpa, you can count
me in that group.”
“Tomorrow’s a
big day for me, Grampa, — more’n jes’ the rodeo,— tomorrow’s our
anniversary. We met for the first time a year ago at the
rodeo. To be honest with you, if’n I’d met you and you were like
what my daddy done told me, I would a’ never revealed myself to
you. I would a’ jes’ gone on home. Of course, I’d still
come back to visit the Claymores. They’ve become part of my
family. I told my dad, I could find no fault with you, Grampa.”
“Vince was
right, Son, to tell you that. I was ever’ bit as bad as he done told
ju’ and worse.”
“That was a long
time ago, Grampa,— what’s done in done. Let’s don’t dwell on
that. What’s important is when we met, I changed and you
changed. We ain’t the same men we was a year ago. I know
we’re better men for git’n to know and love each other, but to answer
your question, I originally thought I’d work for you and the Lazy
8 about year, then go home to my dad. The only thing
is, I found out I like being a cowboy. I like work’n at the ranch
and the best part is git’n to work for my granddad.
I done told ju’
about having to grow up real fast when mom passed away to take care of
my dad. I guess being out on my own this last year has given me a
sense of freedom I ain’t never had since mom died. When I’s
cowboy’n, h’it’s almost like I’s carefree without a worry in the
world. All I wanna’ do is be a cowboy. I don’t want me a
lot of responsibility other than to put in a good days work for my
pay. As long as my ramrod’s happy with my work, and I got my
cowboy brothers, I’m happy. I come to realize, h’it’s
sort a’ like I’m git’n a second chance to live part of my youth I had
to give up ‘cause I’s forced to grow up so quick. I think it’s about
the same thing Mr. Le Fleur was talk’n ‘bout, try’n to recapture a
little of that happiness. Can you understand that, Sir?”
“Certainly,
Son. I understand. I don’t know much about psychology, but
my gut feeling tells me h’it’s something you need right now.
Perhaps later, you’ll change your mind, but for right now I think
you’re pretty happy. I know I’m happy to have you work’n for me
even if you is my boss.”
“Don’t think
that a’ way, I ain’t chore’ boss, Grampa. You know I don’t never
think that. You’re my ramrod. Don’t I show you and Wade the
respect you’re due as my bosses?”
“You do, Son,
and we appreciate it. I never asked you to do that, but h’it
makes a difference. It makes a good impression on the other
cowboys. We’ve noticed they even seem to have a different kind of
respect for us. Wade Mulligan thinks the world of you. He
was sure you was gonna’ take his job away from him.”
“I told him I
don’t want his job. I didn’t tell him I don’t need the money, but
I did tell him I wouldn’t want the responsibility. I got enough
on my plate jes’ being a cowboy.
I been looking
for a way to tell you this, so I guess now’s as good a time as
any. Sid and Sticker asked me to take over managing the ranch,
but I turned them down. I told them the same thing, I don’t
want that kind of responsibility right now. I just wanna’ be a
cowboy. The fact that I own a third of the company ain’t what’s
important to me.”
“I know about
it, Son. You don’t haf’ta’ guess who done told me.” he chuckled,
“I’s wondering when you’s gonna’ tell me. I figured you would in
yore’ own time. I’m proud and happy for you. I’m also proud
you wanna’ learn the business from the bottom up. It’ll be a lot
easier for you when you’re ready to step into the job.”
“‘At’s what Mr.
Wiggins told me, Grampa. He and Mr. Wainright talked to dad
before they ever approached me about it. Dad told me about it
when I’s home for Christmas and Sticker talked with me some more at the
roundup. Dad urged me to stay on for a while if’n that’s what I
want. He thought it was a good opportunity.
My little
brother’s take’n good care of him, and dad keeps him in line. He
thinks on dad as his second dad. For all his smarts, my little
brother can be a scatter brain sometimes. He’s so gifted and he’s
got so much going on in his head, he gits distracted easily and has a
hard time completing long term goals he sets for himself.
He gits sidetracked and never gits around to finishing what he
started. Dad seems to be one of the only men who can control him,
and he keeps my little brother on a short leash. Logan loves and
respects dad and would never tell him ‘no.’ They’re good for each
other. Dad promised Sid Wainright and Sticker he’d see to
it Logan made it through med school; that may be another three, maybe
four years. Dad won’t let him take too many courses and burn
himself out.
Dad told me as
long as he gits to see me for a couple of weeks two or three times a
year, he’ll be fine. I know in my heart, I won’t never leave my
dad behind. I belong to him, not because I’m his slave like
Master Waddie thinks, but because I want to belong to him. I’m
gonna’ talk with him when I go home after the rodeo. I know I’ll
be back for at least another year,— maybe two. Whatever I decide,
I won’t never be too far away, Grampa.”
“Well, I’m glad
to hear that. I suppose that’s what I wanted to hear. I
know a lot of folks at the ranch and here in Chapel Creek would be
disappointed if’n you’s to jes’ up and leave. Yore’ Uncle
Ocie and Bubba would grieve themselves silly.”
“You wont
another sip, Grampa?”
“One more and
you better git in there and clean yore’self. I should, too.” he
smiled at me.
“Please,
ramrod,— not until after you pay our insurance policy, then I’ll take
care of you personally, Sir.”
“Y’ain’t too
tar’d, Son?”
“Oh, hell, no,
Sir!” I exclaimed, “I want my ramrod to saddle his old cayuse and
ride him down hard. I wanna’ be able to feel it tomorrow
when I’s in the saddle. It’ll remind me my grandpa cared enough
to take care of his grandson.”
“You’re a piece
of work, Son. I’ll do my best to make sure you do feel it
tomorrow.” he laughed.
Curtis suggested
we should get to bed and told me to go clean myself. I took off
my boots and clothes and stood naked in front of him taking the final
sip of my Comfort. He sat his drink aside, snapped his fingers
and pointed to his boots. I sat my glass on the table and went
through the ritual with him. Afterward, I helped him off with his
boots. He laughed to see me hard again. He gave me a hug, another
kiss, thanked me and sent me off to the shower.
When I returned,
I got a pleasant shock. It was one of the few times in my life I
was at a loss for words. Curtis was sitting on the couch
with nothing on but his cowboy gear. He wasn’t wearing his spurs,
but he had on his boots, chaps, and vest. He was stunning,
and I was stunned. He grinned real big at me as he stroked
his huge shaft in anticipation.
“Wow, ramrod,
Sir,—!” I exclaimed. “You been talk’n with the sheriff?”
“Yeah, Son,
‘at’s part a’ why he called me aside to talk with me. I thought
since tomorrow is a’ kinda special day for us, maybe we could make it
little more special tonight.”
“Great idea,
ramrod. I gotta’ thank the sheriff for giving you that
tip. Does this mean I git to wear my gear?”
“According to
the sheriff, and he should know, h’it’s the law in these, here,
parts. We don’t wanna’ break no laws,— do we?” he grinned as he
asked.
“Naw, Sir,
ramrod. It’ll only take me a minute.”
I never got my
gear on faster. Curtis was watching me the whole time, and it was
only getting me more excited. I couldn’t wait to rodeo with him,
and I know he felt the same. I had an idea there would be minimal
foreplay, and I was right. We got on the bed, and I lubed up his
big dick for him. He was just too damn big not to. He
popped out my plug and easily inserted his huge, ramrod penis
into my ass. He sunk it to the hilt, and it caused me to
gasp a little. When I had my ramrod inside me, I was full.
My ramrod straw
boss gave and I got one hell of a fucking. He built us up several
times only to pull back and hold off for a while. After the
fourth time of some pretty intense fucking, he decided to ride us to
the barn, and I exploded all over him and me. He shot and shot
into my ass his rich, thick, ropey, cowboy cream. He won our
rodeo.
Afterward, I
took my gear off and helped him with his. I took him to the
shower and carefully bathed him. He was resigned to me taking
care of him, and he just allowed me to do it. I enjoyed taking
care of him as much as taking care of my dad. That thought
made me a bit melancholy; however, I soon got over it when Curtis
ordered me to bend over so he could insert my plug again. It’s a
good thing he did, he took advantage of my cowboy hole a couple more
times during the night. I knew I was going to feel my insurance
policy paid in full at the rodeo the next day.
* * * * * * *
There was much
activity early the next morning. Granddad and I were up well
before the dawn to join the other men helping Gip and his boys get
ready for the day. Everything around the ranch was in good order,
but there were last minute details that needed to be seen to.
After a wonderful breakfast we helped the sheriff load his big horse
trailer with all the tack and ponies we were going to take to the
rodeo. Everyone was in a great mood.
Granddad and I
rode with Gip and his boy in his big truck pulling the
ponies. After we were on the road I asked Gip about leaving
Cindy and the girls behind.
“Aww, she and
the girls had some last minute things they wanted to get done. I
told her we’d wait for them, but she insisted we go on. She said
she and the girls would be right behind us in the ranch wagon. I
hope so, she needs to be there to welcome our guests.”
Every year since
Gip was sheriff, he and Cindy had the Apache Chiefs and their
families as guest to sit in their private box at the rodeo. Cindy
explained it to me the previous year.
A couple of
years before Gip took office as sheriff there was several families of
Apache Indians who settled in a small community just South of Chapel
Creek. The previous sheriff wasn’t a nice man. He
tried every way he could to get them out, but they wouldn’t leave.
Before Gip
became sheriff he made friends with a couple of men from the tribe and
rodeoed with several. He helped Garth Yellow Hawk get his job as
a hand for the Lazy 8. He even hired one of their tribe
Charlie Little Horse as one of his deputies. He was a fine
man and worked for Gip for years.
Gip went to the
elders and chiefs of the tribe when the county wanted him to run for
sheriff and promised them, if they supported him he wouldn’t harass
them like the other sheriff. Naturally, they voted for Gip and he
won by a landslide only equaled one other time by his granddad.
Gip let them be
and would only go out to their community if they called and asked for
his help. Most times, one of the men would get drunk and become
abusive. Gip would haul his ass off to jail until he cooled
off. He wouldn’t bother to book them, he’d just let them sleep it
off and drive them back to their community the next day. The
tribe was more severe in their punishment than Gip ever might have been.
He learned to
leave them to their own justice and only get involved when he was
called and asked. Even then, whether he was on duty or not, he
would always go with the deputy who was going out there. Usually
Gip and Charlie Little Horse would ride out together.
The first year
they held the rodeo under Gip’s administration the tribe came to watch
several of their men who entered the rodeo. They had little money
and didn’t have the price of an entry ticket. The people at the
gates, and some of Gip’s deputies turned them away. One of
his deputies had the good sense to notify Gip what the others had done.
As Cindy related
it to me, when Gip heard about it he went postal. Cindy said it
was the only time in their marriage she was truly worried about her
husband having a stroke. In all their years together she never
saw Gip so angry. He called the rodeo staff and his
deputies together and talked to them.
“Why in the hell
didn’t you come to me about this? I would a’ made damn sure ever’
one of ‘um had tickets if’n I have to pay for them myself. No,—
no,— fuck it! You know what? From now on,
forgit about them having tickets. Next time,— ticket or no
ticket,— if’n they’s a member of the tribe or one of their own vouches
for them, you just let ‘um in. They don’t need no damn
ticket,— understand?”
They all agreed
they understood.
“If’n they be a
chief or elder,— you direct them and their families to my box and my
wife will welcome them. They’ll be the sheriff and
his wife’s guest for the rodeo. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir,
Sheriff.” they replied.
Cindy said Gip
ran to the Chiefs and their families before they could leave and humbly
apologized for the rodeo staff and his deputies. He told
them he would be proud and honored if they would stay and be his and
his wife’s guest for the rodeo; and, after the rodeo they were all
invited to his ranch for a Fourth of July picnic. They graciously
accepted and it became a Fourth of July tradition, the elders,
Chiefs and their families would sit with Cindy in the sheriff’s private
box.
When the rodeo
grounds were built by Gip’s granddad Buck Claymore during his
administration in the fifties, they built a good size room above the
chutes at the South end of the arena. It was right next to
the announcers box but had its own private entrance. It was a big
rectangular room with a slant roof in the front to cut the glare from
the sun in the arena. It was screened in to protect the
sheriff’s guest from flies which followed the livestock and probably
several of the cowboys.
While it wasn’t
air-conditioned, it had big fans and several turbulators on the roof to
exhaust hot air. It was a large area with four levels of seating
which would accommodate about twenty-five to thirty people. Gip’s
girls were competing in the barrel racing event and his boys entered
several events. Gip was too busy coordinating everything and
making sure everything ran smoothly. Since Cindy and a couple of
her friends were the only ones who used it, there was plenty of room
for their Native American guests.
Gip saw it as a
great honor to have original Americas taking part in their Fourth of
July day. How more American could you get? In the middle of
the rodeo, the tribe would perform several of their native
dances. It was always a hit with the folks who attended the
rodeo. Their presence and participation gave an air of
authenticity to the Chapel Creek rodeo that wasn’t found in many of the
other, larger rodeos. For that reason, even though it was a
smaller rodeo by comparison, it attracted some top rodeo talent, and
was always well attended. Tickets were usually sold out in
advance; however, Gip made sure there were enough extra seats reserved
for the tribe.
When Gip’s
granddad was planning and building the rodeo grounds he added a huge
barn with open pavilions on either side to store the rodeo stock out of
the heat of the day. The cowboys who were riding in the
rodeo brought their ponies to the barn to saddle up and put in a stall
until they were ready to ride. There were big exhaust fans in the
eves of the barn for air circulation, and it was always cooler in the
barn and pavilions. Buck Claymore knew what he was doing.
Gip pulled up in
front of the barn and we began to unload the ponies and
tack. From the time Gip got out of his truck and his boots hit
the ground, he was busy barking orders and giving last minute
instructions in the first light of day as the sun began to rise in the
East. If you’ve never worked a rodeo, you have no idea the amount
of time and work that goes on behind the scene to make it happen and
run smoothly. One of the sheriff’s responsibilities, which
came with the job, was coordinating and running the annual Fourth of
July rodeo. I heard it said that the rodeo was never worth a damn
until Gip became sheriff.
Gip was
assigning his deputies and rodeo staff their positions. After we got
the ponies unloaded and little Gip moved the sheriff’s truck and
trailer to the parking area behind the barn, Gip gave us our
instructions. Since granddad and I helped the previous
year, he asked us to be in charge of the barn, assigning stalls and
showing the men bringing rodeo stock where to put the
critters. He looked up to see the Conners pulling behind
the barn to park their truck.
“Curtis, would
you ask Hank and Bart to give you and Casey a hand with the folks
bringing livestock?”
Granddad assured
him he would and Gip went off to check on a dozen other things.
He was a man on a mission. Gip had managed and run the rodeo so
many years it became second nature to him. It always ran
smoothly, because he relied on his help to do what he wanted.
Master Waddie and his family were not exempt. Gip even had
Dan Yates, Cowboy and Griz helping out. If a man volunteered, Gip
had a job for him.
We barely had
time to say ‘hello’ to Bart, Brent and Hank when we got busy helping
unload the first of the livestock. Pretty soon there was a line
of trucks and trailers waiting to unload. The idea was to get
them unloaded as quickly as possible before the sun got too high so the
animals wouldn’t have to stand inside a hot trailer. Everything
seemed to be running smoothly and we were about finished
unloading. Granddad and I were having a ball because all
the cowboys riding in the rodeo congregated around the barn and
pavilions. I was helping a family get their ponies into stalls
when Bart came to take over for me.
“Mr. Langtry
needs to see you out front of the barn, brother. I’ll help these
folks.”
“Thanks,
brother.” I told him and excused myself from the folks and told
them they were in good hands with my cowboy brother.
I walked to the
front and saw granddad, and Hank talking with Cousin Rance, my brother
Dwayne and his giant husband Lamar who was holding a happy little
buckaroo Brent, Sid Wainright, Sticker Wiggins and Sid’s personal
assistant, Kevin. Also with them were their two pilots and
steward, Jeremy. I know my mouth must have dropped
open. They started laughing at me. I was so shocked
and thrilled to see them. I hugged and kissed each one.
“We wanted to
come see how well the Lazy 8 is being represented at the rodeo.”
Sid laughed as he told us, “Kevin expressed a desire some time ago to
see you and your granddad rodeo together, so we thought this was a good
time to bring him along. From there, it just grew.” he
laughed
“I’m so glad you
did.” I told Sid as I took Kevin into my arms for a hug and a
kiss.
“I’m so glad you
could come with them and be with us. You look great, Kevin.
You’ve been working out.” I told him.
“See,— I told
ju’ he’d notice.” Sticker said to Kevin.
“Yeah, for about
a year now. Mr. Wiggins has been good enough to help me some with
my training. I’ve been looking forward to this for a month,
Casey. It’s so good to see you again and meet Mr. Langtry.”
I turned my
attention back to Mr. Wainright.
“I wish dad and
ma’little brother had come with you.”
“Casey,— we
begged and pleaded with him. Logan wanted to come with us
in the worst way. He begged and pleaded with him, too. Vince told
Logan to come with us, he’d have Bodey and Flynn stay in the house with
him for the weekend, but he refused to leave Vince. You know how
he feels about his dad.” Sid smiled and shook his head.
“Can’t says I ain’t proud of my boy for stick’n to his guns. He
made you and Vince a promise, and by God he’s gonna’ keep it.”
Sid got a smile
out of me. I did know how my little brother felt about our dad;
however, it hurt me pretty bad that dad was still being stubborn.
It wasn’t like my dad. I thought I knew him better than
that. Why was this taking him so long to make up his mind?
It had been six months since he read granddad’s letter. What more
did he want? I didn’t even have to look at Curtis, I could
feel the sadness and despair coming from granddad like he’d been hit in
his gut.
They flew out
early in the morning to be with us for the weekend. Unbeknownst
to me, they contacted Gip and he invited them to stay at the ranch with
the rest of us. It was great to see them, and to know they’d be
watching and cheering us on. They knew we were busy and said
their goodbyes to go get seats. They would see us later at the
picnic. It was getting near starting time and Gip came around to
tell everyone to get saddled up for the grand entry.
“Last year me’n
ma’dad rode the flags into the arena.” he spoke to Curtis and
me. “This year I’d appreciate it if’n you men would ride the
flags. I know you know how.”
“Yes, Sir,
Sheriff, we know, and we’d be honored and proud to carry the
flags.” Granddad told him.
“You
turkey.” I grinned at Gip. He grinned back at me. He
knew why I called him a ‘turkey.’
“H’it was
suppose to be a surprise, okay? I ain’t all to blame.
Sticker done told me to keep my mouth shut, they wanted to surprise
ya’ll.”
“It was a nice
surprise. Thanks, Sheriff.” I laughed at him.
Gip grabbed me
and hugged me. “Any time, cowboy. Now, ya’ll git mounted up
and report to the head of the line behind the stocks. They got
the flags waiting for ya.’”
Granddad and I
were ready and rode Rocky and Socks to the front of the line.
Everyone who was participating in the rodeo was expected to ride in the
grand entry. The grand entry is pretty much the same drill in
every rodeo. Most cowboys are so use to it they can do it asleep
on their pony. It consists of several configurations of riding
usually ending up with a figure eight where all the riders have to time
the crossing just right. There’s rarely a loss of life or limb;
however, I’ve seen a couple of nasty pile ups.
To ride the
flags into the arena is a great honor. The two riders hold the
flags out away from their ponies and ride balls out, fast as they can
around the outside edge of the arena, cross at the end, ride around to
cross once more and come to rest together at the opposite end.
The announcer came on and welcomed everyone to the rodeo. He made
a few announcements about what was going to take place and when.
Then he began his opening speech.
“We begin our
Fourth of July, independence day rodeo with the entry of the
flags. The American Flag, Old Glory, will be carried by the
foreman or top waddie at the Lazy 8 ranch, Mr. Curtis
Langtry. Our state flag of the great State of Texas, the
Lone Star State, will be carried by Mr. Langtry’s grandson Mr. Casey
Longhorn who works as a ranch hand at the Lazy 8.”
They opened the
gates, Curtis looked at me and nodded, and we were off. We opened
our ponies up and they kept up with each other almost perfectly the
whole ride. Everyone stood and removed their hats as a sign of
respect as the flags went by. We came to a halt at the far end of
the arena and sat there while they played the National Anthem and then
the Texas State Song. Then granddad and I took off in opposite
directions from which we rode in around the arena twice and out.
Then the grand entry began, which Curtis and I rode in, along with all
the other cowboys and cowgirls, and it went off without a hitch.
Granddad, Bart
and I helped Gip and his staff around the chutes during the rodeo until
it came time for us to compete. We had a great view of everything
going on in the arena. In the first half was the calf roping
event which several of the cowboys from the Lazy 8 participated in
including Bart and I. I took first place and Bart took
second. Little Gip took third. Curt won the saddle
bronc even.
After the Apache
men did several dances the team roping competition got under way, and
again, by the luck of the draw, Curtis and I were to rope next to
last. Bart and I roped together. We made a great run,
and I thought it just might be the winning run, but granddad and I were
yet to rope. We could hear Hank and Brent yelling for us as we
made our run. Everyone was on their feet when we finished.
It came
our time for Curtis and I to rope and we rode into the arena. As
we adjusted our ropes we could hear folks call to us to wish us
luck. I looked at granddad and could tell what he was
thinking. His mind wasn’t on the rodeo.
“Listen, old
man,” I smiled at him, “h’it ain’t the end of the world. Remember
what chu’ have. You got one son who loves you very
much. You got a grandson who adores you, who you made the finest
love to last night any cowboy could with his partner. I’m wearing
your love inside me and can still feel my insurance policy paid in full
back there.” I smiled at him, “I know you, Grampa,— you can rise
above this, and we can win.”
Curtis looked at
me with a tear in his eye, reached back and got his bandanna from his
hip pocket and wiped it away.
“Sorry, Son,—
got a bit of dust in my eye there for a minute. You’re right, we
won that damn rodeo last night, we kin win this one today. Let’s
us do it!”
I smiled at him
and nodded. We rode to take our place in the stocks. The
announcer began to announce our run.
“Our next team
is the same men who rode the flags in at the beginning of our rodeo,
folks,— Mr. Curtis Langtry and his grandson, Mr. Casey Longhorn.
They’re representing the Lazy 8 ranch. Last year, Casey
teamed up with and won the team roping event with the sheriff’s dad,
Waddie Claymore. Casey also won first place in the calf roping
event.” the audience politely applauded, and I tipped my hat in
acknowledgment. He continued, “I’ve been asked to announce the
Lazy 8 is hiring cowhands. If any of you cowboys think you’d like
to work for a fine outfit like the Lazy 8 see these men after the rodeo
today or tomorrow.”
The announcer
finished, the steer was let loose, the barrier rope dropped, granddad
took off on Socks like a rocket sled and Rocky was half a step
behind. Granddad had the steer roped and turned before it could
take four full steps. I had it’s hinders roped immediately
afterward. Socks backed up and was pulling Curtis’ rope taught as
I dallied mine. Rocky took three steps back and we were done.
The crowd was on
their feet, yelling, applauding and stomping their feet. I could
see my family from home in the stands, yelling and waving their
hats. Hank and Brent were with them doing the same.
The announcer immediately said, “And that’s the way it’s done,
folks. Excellent run gentlemen!” he paused and announced
our time as being a new arena record. Again the crowd went nuts;
however, there was one team left to rope. It was Master Waddie
and Titus.
They got into
the stocks and were ready. The steer was released and Master
Waddie had him caught as quickly as Curtis did and Titus was no
slouch. I thought for sure they tied or beat us; however, when
the announcer announced their time they were two and a half
seconds short of our time. Hell they were a full second behind me
and Bart’s time. Granddad and I had won the rodeo.
Bart and I placed second. Everyone was applauding and
hollering. Master Waddie and Titus came riding out of the arena
with big grins on their faces.
“Go on, git out
there you two,— you too Conners, — you cowboys done won the rodeo,—
today.” he smiled like tomorrow was another day.
“Congratulations, men,— the best teams won.” he added.
Granddad, Bart
and I rode out into the arena and took our hats off to acknowledge the
crowds applause and cheers.
“And here you
have our first place team and our second place team to take a bow
folks.”
We slowly took a
victory lap around the arena and as I passed the stands where our
family was, I took my hat and sailed it into the stands right at Brent.
<< Here
comes my love, little brother,— catch it! >>
<< Oh,
God,— I love you too, big brother, I’m so proud of ya’ll. >>
Brent
reached one hand up and caught my hat like he’d done it a thousand
times and the crowd went crazy again as we rode out of the arena.
“I’ll say one
thing for that boy.” said Sticker, “He knows how to play to a
crowd.”
“Just what we
need, pod’na.” Sid replied, “Nothing like good P.R.” he
added. Kevin overheard them and agreed.
There was two
more events and the rodeo was over. It went off like clockwork,
and we were through at noon. We stayed around to help with the
last two events, but as soon as we finished Gip asked the three of us
to take our ponies back to the barn and see to those who had questions
or needed help. They were welcome to board their ponies
overnight, and they would be taken care of. Gip hired one of the
young Indian men Charlie Little Horse’s son John to feed, water and
guard the livestock for the night. However, the sheriff wanted
all of his and our ponies loaded back into his trailer for the short
trip back to the ranch. He knew some of the men would want to
rodeo. He wasn’t fooling anyone. Gip wanted to rodeo.
We were working
around the barn getting folks arranged and settled. We helped
John Little Horse feed and water the stock. As we were loading
the ponies being transported to the ranch, I looked up and saw
our family from back home with Hank and Brent walking toward us.
Brent had one hand holding his giant bear friend’s hand he met
for the first time and his other hand holding his granddad’s. He
was in heaven. We stopped long enough to get hugged, kissed and
congratulated by everyone. Brent handed me back my hat.
“Thanks, big
brother, that meant a lot to me.” he said.
“Aww, shucks,
pod’ner,” I poured on my best buckaroo accent, “us cowpokes gotta’
stick together,— don’t we?” I grinned.
“Oh, yes, Casey,
we sure do.” he replied.
“Tell me, little
brother, does the big man look like you thought he would?” I motioned
to Griz.
“He looks
exactly like I pictured him, but you done showed me a pitcher of him,—
don’t chu’ ‘member?”
“I did show you
several pictures of him. I just forgot, little brother.”
Everyone
laughed. Curtis opened his arms to Brent and he ran to him.
“You gonna’ ride
with me later today at the sheriff’s ranch, Son.”
“Yes, Sir, Mr.
Langtry. I’d be mighty proud to ride with you a spell, Sir.”
Curtis smiled,
stole a kiss and put him down to return to Hank. Once again I
noticed granddad’s countenance fell. He pulled himself up by his
bootstraps long enough to win the rodeo for me, but now the cloud was
back hovering over his soul. I looked at Griz with a look of
desperation and concern. I didn’t project my feelings to
him. I didn’t have to tap his mind, he didn’t have to tap mine,—
he just knew.
I watched his,
big, fuzzy, ugly, wonderful face as a small smile crossed his
lips. His eyes projected nothing; however, there was a calm came
over me like the good Lord himself placed his hand on me. I
shivered slightly as a chill ran up my spine. It was like another
voice, altogether, came to me. I put my arm around granddad and
pulled him close as we talked more with the men. Griz saw my
gesture of affection and comfort for my granddad. He smiled
again, ever so slightly nodded his head and in an instant I knew.
He didn’t have to touch my mind for me to understand what was going
on,— I just knew.
End of Chapter
47 ~ Texas Longhorns
Copyright 2005 ~
Waddie Greywolf
All rights
reserved ~
Mail to:
waddiebear@yahoo.com