Peace River (Rockland Ranch Series) (20 page)

             
Slade high-fived him and Isabel added her hand as well and the two of them said in unison, “Deal.”

             
As they headed back to the trailer to dress for the night’s rodeo, Rossen asked, “So, was Jesse really around?  Or were you two just saying that?”

Chapter 8

             
Slade and Rossen cleaned up in Cheyenne.  After that big rodeo they were ranked 5th in the world in team roping, and Slade was in the top 6 for all-around.  After kissing in the stall Isabel started to ride in the front seat of the truck regularly.  Although their itinerary hadn’t changed, their relationship had. 

They all three realized that living
so closely in the trailer and being more involved would require a delicate balance, and Slade voiced concern about Isabel’s reputation.  Even though Slade and Isabel definitely acted romantically involved, they were careful to go easy and be completely beyond reproach.  It was heavenly to not have to pretend anymore that theirs was only a professional relationship. 

It was
nice just to be able to hold his hand if she wanted.  When he occasionally held her, she wanted to be thinking much more long term than about the next rodeo.  Much more long term than was wise, considering their situation.

             
Rossen and Slade had indeed attended church every Sunday wherever they were, and they’d taken Isabel with them.  She didn’t really have a clue what was going on at first, but she’d left every time feeling happy and spiritually fed.  The principles she was learning in Rossen’s church exactly dovetailed with what little her mother had taught her and although it was very different than the church she’d attended with Eli and Dante, she felt good about going.  Rossen still hadn’t said anything as far as trying to preach to her or Slade, and she knew Slade was impatient to break the news that he wanted to be baptized.  He’d thought Rossen would have asked him again by now. 

             
Their next stop was the rodeo in Salt Lake City, Utah, and Isabel looked forward to it.  She’d never been there other than the night at the airport, but she knew it was the closest big city to their homes.  It was also where Rossen’s church was headquartered, and the rodeo celebration was all a part of the commemoration of the first settlers of the area which had been the earliest members of the church.  They’d been telling her some of the history of the region, and she was fascinated. 

             
Stories of a boy prophet, gold plates, wagons trains, extermination orders, handcarts and all kinds of interesting trivia about the area had her wishing they would be spending more time there than they could spare.  She was sure they would be back in the area several times.  It was obviously a place they loved.

             
She had had no idea before coming here with them that Salt Lake City was such a cultured metropolitan area.  It had not only one of the top ballet companies in the country, but a full symphony as well and an opera company.  Apparently the church leaders had believed the arts to be important from the earliest time here.

             
They stopped at the Rockland Ranch for a few hours’ visit on the way through from Cheyenne to Salt Lake City.  Isabel was thrilled to see Naomi again and she was gratified to realize how well Ebony Wind was doing.  Marti herself was riding him occasionally and he was as sleek and shiny as ever. 

             
Isabel mentioned to Naomi that she’d been attending church with Rossen and Slade and that she had begun to understand what Naomi had meant about the gospel principles.  They shared a sweet moment that Isabel felt only they two could understand. 

             
Later, Naomi asked, “Has Rossen given you a Book of Mormon of your own yet?”  They were walking out to the truck together as the rodeo threesome prepared to leave.

             
Isabel shook her head.  “Not yet.  They told me they would get me one on this trip though.” 

             
“They?”  Naomi perked right up at the use of the plural.

             
“They.”  Isabel smiled at her.  She could imagine how this good woman felt.  She knew she loved Slade like a son and wanted him to have the same happy life her own family enjoyed. 

             
As Isabel climbed into the truck to leave, Naomi held Isabel’s hand in both of hers and said, “Take care of my boys and hurry home.”

              The rodeo in Salt Lake City was actually held in a huge arena in the crush of the city.  There was nowhere to stall the horses.  In fact, they had to park the trailer in the middle of a parking lot cordoned off for that purpose.

             
On the way into the arena they had driven past the Salt Lake Temple, a glorious cathedral-type building with multiple spires.  As they drove past and she commented on how beautiful it was, they told her it was one of the many temples that belonged to their church.  They would just mention things in passing, and she’d begun to wonder if she would ever understand all the aspects of this gospel.  Sometimes she felt they were speaking a different language.  

             
They arrived in mid-afternoon and would compete that night, then planned to leave immediately afterward so they could bed down their horses somewhere other than tied to the trailer on the pavement.  They would head straight up I-15 to southern Idaho.

             
Before the rodeo, Isabel was working in the trailer when she found what looked to her like one of the flack jackets the bull riders wore in a storage compartment under one of the beds.  Slade and Rossen were outside tacking up and she carried it to Slade and asked, “What’s this?” 

             
He glanced up at it and then met her eyes.  “You know exactly what it is, Isabel.  It’s too stiff and constricting.  I can’t ride with it.”  He finished saddling his horse, untied it and stood waiting for Rossen.  He looked at her again for a long steady moment that didn’t hold any attitude, but it didn’t hold any backing down either.  Finally, she turned and went back into the trailer.

             
Through the trailer window, Isabel saw that Rossen finished tightening his cinch, stepped into the saddle, grinned down at Slade and said, “If you get hurt you’d better just go ahead and die rather than face her.”

             
Inside the trailer Isabel was torn.  In a way she was disgusted with Slade for making a stupid decision on top of a stupid decision, and she was hurt that he hadn’t even bothered to try to accommodate what she’d obviously been trying to get him to do.  But, in a way, she also respected the fact that he didn’t always give in to her will the way other guys sometimes did.  It ticked her off, but if he’d have let her call all the shots, she wouldn’t have been attracted to him.  Somehow, her strong will and spirit needed a man whose will and spirit were even stronger. 

It was frustrating at times like
this, but she never doubted he was strong enough for her to lean on when she needed it.  That was invaluable to her. 

For most
of her teen and adult life she had found that because she was smart and decisive, many of the men she came in contact with always deferred to her will or judgment.  Not only did it get old quickly, but there were times she really just needed someone else to make the tough calls and let her lean on their strength. 

It wasn't a men are superior or not thing, it was just that sometimes she needed to know the
guy had it all under control.  Before Slade she'd never been able to be sure of that.  She just hoped and prayed that his strong will wouldn’t come back to hurt him.

              Later, Isabel was unusually nervous for some reason.  The rodeo wouldn’t even start for another forty minutes, but she was already in the building.  After asking Slade about the flack jacket and Rossen’s comment about getting hurt, she’d been unable to focus on anything.  Finally, she had given up and decided to come over early and watch the cowboys warm up.  She didn’t remember being this tense even at her first rodeo.  Maybe it was just that this one was so different from what she was used to because it was in such an unusual venue.  She decided to try walking the concourses to release some of her emotions.

             
Bo, Joey, and Treyne came, but didn’t get there until just before it started.  By the time they showed up and climbed over all the others on their row, Isabel was a mess.  Her nerves were shot.  She absent-mindedly stood for the National Anthem, usually one of her favorite parts of the whole night, and even the fact that the queens rode into the arena in a convertible and evening gowns didn’t catch her attention. 
What was wrong with her tonight?
  Finally, she just mentally shook herself and managed to calm down by sheer force of will. 

The show was good,
the clowns were excellent, and Slade and Rossen placed first or second in each of their earlier events.  She’d finally mellowed and was beginning to enjoy herself when she realized they were through with the barrels and were setting up for the bulls.  All of her hard won self-control went out the window, and she excused herself from her seat. 

             
She wandered for a few minutes during the first few bulls, and found herself just above the alleyway the cowgirls used to race into the arena from outside.  She heard the announcer call Slade’s name and begin to go into his spiel about Slade’s record, standing, and what not.  From where she was at the end of the arena she had a bird’s eye view of the chutes and area behind them.  She could clearly see Rossen helping Slade as he settled onto the back of a black bull.

             
The entire world seemed to move into slow motion as he leaned back and nodded his head.  Everything was strikingly clear and in sharp focus as the bull exploded from the gate and began his violent attempt to unseat the cowboy on his back.  Bucking and spinning left and then right, it would kick high into the air and then whip its massive head back only to plunge forward and whip the other way.  Slade was the ultimate picture of grace under fire and rode with a precision and balance that were both terrifying and fascinating at once.  She wanted to look away and at the same time couldn’t bring herself to move. 

             
Finally, the buzzer sounded. Slade brought his free hand down to his rope and prepared to dismount.  At the last second as he leaned forward, the bull gave another huge lunge, and flung him violently up and to the left.  Slade landed in front and to the side of the bull on his shoulder, and was lost to sight for a split second somewhere under the animal. 

             
In the melee and dust, it was impossible to tell if he was being stepped on as the bull went over the top of him.  Almost instantly he came to his feet and lunged for the fence as the bull spun and charged.  Motion seemed to slow even further as she saw the bull slam into his side and smash him into the rail.  In what could only have been a split second, but felt like hours, both bullfighters were there slapping the bull in the face.  It turned on them and spun away from Slade. 

             
Miraculously, he stood and pulled himself up the fence and hung there by one arm until the bull was run out of the arena.  Isabel finally breathed as he slid back to the ground and stood leaning on the bullfighters at his side.  One arm hung at an awkward angle and he couldn’t seem to stand up straight. 

             
Rossen was there instantly as a group of cowboys tried to help him out of the arena and to the attending physician at the gate.  Without even knowing how she got there, Isabel found herself on the arena floor, and watched as they loaded him on the stretcher and into the ambulance.  Rossen pushed her in the door before they closed it and the ambulance pulled away.

             
She stayed out of the way of the medics as they tried to check his vitals.  She wasn’t even sure where it was safe to touch him, and was amazed when his good arm reached out to her.  As she moved to his side as best she could, their eyes met and locked. 

His skin was ashen and beads of sweat stood out on his brow, but his grip was strong enough to hurt her
and she was reassured, even as she heard them say he was bleeding internally.  He had a dislocated shoulder, but it couldn’t be immediately put back in because they believed he also had a broken collar bone.  They were still assessing him as the ambulance pulled into the emergency entrance of the hospital a mere six minutes later. 

             
Doctors were waiting as they wheeled him in, and instantly went to work to try to determine where the internal injury was.  They knew he was bleeding badly and prepped him for surgery on the spot.  Rossen and Treyne came flying in the door just as they started to wheel him out.

             
Isabel finally cried when she saw these two friends reunite.  Rossen gripped Slade’s good hand and the look that passed between them was unfathomable.

             
Slade spoke for the first time, “Can I have a blessing before they operate?”

             
An attending doctor interrupted, “Make it fast.”  Isabel had no idea what was going on, but the hospital staff seemed to.  They wheeled him back into the cubicle and quickly pulled the curtains closed.  Treyne placed a drop of something out of a tiny vial on the top of Slade’s head and then placed his hands there.  He said a short prayer and then Rossen put his hands on top of Treyne’s and said another slightly longer one.