The Bull Rider Wears Pink (11 page)

Still on her knees, she wiped at
her nose and mouth with her sleeve. Then, she looked to Mike Shannon, the bull
fighter, for an explanation. He stood over her and made no effort to help her
up. A lot of the time he helped the guys. She didn't understand what was going
on because the crowd was still laughing.

“You're pants are split up the
back,” Mike told her.

“What?” Cassidy mouthed. She could
feel her neck strain as she tried to hear him.

“Your ass is hanging out,” he
scolded. “There's no place at the rodeo for a woman who wears a pink thong.” He
looked disgusted with her.

Cassidy threw her hands over her
backside, which made the crowd laugh even harder as she pulled herself to her
feet. She tried to keep her knees and dignity together while she walked to the
fence. This was so far from the way she dreamed this ride would end up she couldn’t
comprehend it. Wrecking she had considered, but the split pants she never
thought of.

“You know,” Mike Shannon was saying
walking alongside her, speaking above the roar of the crowd. “Me and the boys,”
he gestured toward the other bull fighters with their painted faces standing
along the fence, waiting for the next rider, Daisy Rose had already gone into
the chute,
“
we don't like risking our lives for this
game you insist on playing.”

“It's not a game,” Cassidy replied
tightly. The crowd started to throw
french
fries at her. Then a cola cup hit her in the head. Oh no, she didn't want the
pictures from her first ride in the men's division to show her with ketchup and
cola in her hair.

As she got closer to the gate, John
ran out with his jacket. She eyed him as he wrapped it around her waist.
Honestly she didn't want to hear a word from the man. Not one judgmental,
critical, condemnatory word. In the past, when she made mistakes, he was pretty
good at piling it on. That scene he made in his hospital room back in L.A.,
after she had compromised his cover, was still fresh in her mind.

“Sorry,” he said gently.

She stopped. She was still in the
ring,
she was still getting pelted by
french
fries. Similar to when he said he loved her that afternoon, she wasn't
expecting this from John. “Sorry,” she repeated. The next bull rider was being
announced so the crowd had pretty much stopped laughing at her but Mike Shannon
was still trying to shoo her out of the way.

“Thank you, Pastor John,” the
announcer called over the PA system. “We've got a good man looking after our
spiritual and physical needs here at the rodeo.” He added, “Could everyone
please stop throwing
french
fries at Cassidy Cooper?”

“Sorry,” John said again. “That
must have been tough,” he added. By this time they were out of the ring. A few
cowboys patted Cassidy on the back and said, “It's happens to the best of us.”
While others pointed at her and laughed but she didn't care. She was still
focused on John.

“What are you sorry for?” she asked
trying to look into his eyes. The glare from the arena lights and getting
shoved by the people around them was making it difficult. But she wasn't going
to give up. John Risk was never sorry about anything. Maybe he was saying it in
his role as Pastor John because people expected it of him. Or maybe he was
saying it because he’d seduced her that afternoon.

“I'm sorry you fell off,” he
answered. “And, I'm sorry you're pants ripped.” He took a deep breath. “I'm
sorry everyone laughed at you.” She finally got a good look in his eyes, like
earlier in the day there was kindness there. “And, you got showered with
french
fries, that must have hurt,”
he added.

Before she had a chance to reply, Kevin
was at her side. “I want to officially say,” he announced to her and anyone
within a five mile radius of his voice. “I'm even more mortified by you than
I've ever been in my entire life.” His hand sliced through the air in a
chopping motion before he turned and walked away.

“Don't listen to him,” John
advised, “he'll get over it.” John wrapped an arm around Cassidy's shoulder. “Let's
go find you a new pair of jeans,” he suggested. “You need to get ready for the
next round.” He kissed her on the forehead.

Cassidy stopped walking. “I don't
know if I should ride,” she told him. “My kid thinks I'm mortifying and nobody
wants me out there.” She picked a
french
fry out of
her hair. “You should have heard what Mike Shannon said to me.”

“Nobody wanted you in the
undercover unit,” John told her as he peeled half of a hot dog bun off her
chest. “But you joined anyway,” he suggested.

That was true. Cassidy had elbowed
her way into the Criminal Investigation Unit.
Also known as
the CIU.
Many had booed and laughed at her at the time. But she showed
them how good she was and they stopped.

“You're not a quitter,” John
whispered. Then he walked away.
Hot dog bun in hand.

****

When John found Cassidy an hour
later she was sitting on a bale of hay beside the stall of the bull she was
riding in the next round. Logan was pacing in front
of her, while Rachel stood to the side holding the baby. John nodded at Logan
and tossed a pair of jeans at Cassidy. He'd also found a ‘more appropriate’
pair of underwear for her after he broke into her room and he dug through her
suitcase.

Both Rachel and Logan raised an
eyebrow when he pulled the white granny panties out of his pocket. Jesus H.
Christ, the bare boycotter and the carousing cowboy had no right to judge.
Maybe those two were reformed since having the baby, but they'd participated in
plenty of ‘consequences be dammed’
behavior
back in
the day.

“Where'd you get those?” Logan
wanted to know in that big brother tone of voice of his.

But John was having none of that
because he was probably a few years older than the cowboy. And, where the hell
did the guy think John got them? They were decorated with pink flowers and
obviously Cassidy's.

“From my
suitcase.”
John shot back not sounding like
Pastor John at all. Honestly he was getting sick of playing the part in front
of Cassidy. She knew him as a guy who took little to no guff.

“I know you're being funny,” Logan
started, “But I also know you don't wear—”

Cassidy stepped around her brother.
“Thanks,” she said to John while giving Logan a
dirty look. It was good to see she had recovered somewhat from that fiasco in
the ring. She pulled the underwear out of John's hands and stuffed them in her
pocket

“I want to know where you got
them.” Logan asked John again. “You didn't go into Cassidy's room—”

“I like to wear flowery underwear
and size six jeans so I happened to have a pair lying around,” John
interrupted. “You got a problem with that?” he asked. Cassidy chuckled while
Kevin appeared out of the shadows and muttered something about John being
gross.

“I knew he was a deviant,” Logan
announced. He stepped up to John. Toe to toe. “You're just not right in the
head,” he decided. “Calling Rachel all those terrible things and then carrying
around women's underwear in your coat pocket.”

“He went to my room,” Cassidy
explained wearily.
“And got them out of my suitcase.
He was doing me a
favor
,” she told her dense brother.
Or maybe the man was looking for a fight.

“How the hell did you get into her
room?” Logan
demanded to know. Jesus, the man was in a mood. Maybe he was rattled by what
happened to Cassidy in the ring. John was certainly feeling concerned about it
too, that crowd got way too aggressive. Then Logan
turned on his sister. “You lock your door, don't you?”

“Of course I do.”

“I didn't know our rodeo minister
had a key,” Logan
shot back.

“He doesn't,” Cassidy yelled at him.

“Then is he trained in breaking and
entering besides the scripture?”

“No, he's not,” Cassidy cried.

This was certainly getting out of
hand and before John had a chance to explain again Kevin stepped forward. “You
broke into our room. What about my computer?” he demanded to know. He was in
John's face, chest puffed up like a roster.

“I relocked the door,” John
replied. This was unbelievable. These Cooper men could get their backs up about
something they didn’t need to worry about. Misplaced anger, John had read of it
when he was working on his certificate. Then Bret
Bodner
drifted by and all that Cooper aggression shifted to the rodeo president and
away from John.

John wanted to yell, praise the Lord,
but decided he didn't want the attention to come back on him. Later he'd have a
talk with Logan
about not mentioning to anyone his visit to Cassidy's room. That sort of
knowledge could get people thinking about him in ways he didn't want them to
think. Asexual had been his gig at the rodeo.

“Bret,” Logan
called out. The rodeo president didn't stop walking. But Logan
was fast. “What the hell was that about?” He asked standing in front of
Bodner
.

“What?” Bret said. He blinked a few
times at Logan.

“Those bull fighters weren't
getting the damn bull away from my sister after she fell.” Logan
stood nose to nose with
Bodner
. “And, you can't allow
spectators to throw garbage at a rider.”

John had to give Cassidy's brother
credit, even though the man was infuriating, he had balls. “She could have been
killed by that bull or the crowd,” Logan continued. “But that
idiot Mike Shannon was too damn busy looking at her ass to get her out of the
ring.”

“That's right,” Rachel affirmed. “An
animal's hoofs or a beer bottle would have cracked Cassidy’s skull open.” She
shifted the baby in her arms.

“We don't allow bottles in the arena,”
Brett replied lamely.

If it hadn't been directed toward
him earlier John would have appreciated what a powerful force the Cooper family
could be when they worked together. But since John knew he'd probably be on the
receiving end of it again, he wasn't ready to give credit where credit was due.

“The bull fighters were doing their
jobs,” Bret countered.
“Like they do for every bull rider
including you.”
The rodeo president pointed at Logan's
chest. “No matter if your rear is hanging out or not.”

“They were not,” Logan
replied. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Bull fighting is a tough business
and you know that,” Bret shot back as he put his hands on his hips. The man was
not to be intimidated. “Those guys have saved your ass many times and I don't
think you should be so damn critical.”

“Logan,”
Cassidy interrupted. “It's okay.” She put a hand on her brother's forearm. “You've
made your point.” John had a feeling Cassidy was worried about the bull
fighters hearing this complaint and not helping her the next time around. That's
how it worked among cops, quid pro quo.

But Logan
wasn't listening. “They were slow today,” he said. Rachel stood behind her
husband and nodded. “Mike Shannon could have stepped in a lot quicker and I
think you need to talk to him about that.”

Bret
Bodner
shrugged. “It's exciting for the crowd to see the little lady scamper.” That
was true. They showed Cassidy's quick crawl on the
jumbotron
above the arena and the crowd laughed again.
Which was
disturbing.

Bret's cell phone rang.

“Don't tell me you're sacrificing
my sister's life to sell tickets,” Logan chastised the rodeo
president over the reveille ring tone.

“Don't tell me you brought that
naked protester to the rodeo.” Bret shot back. “I thought I told you I didn't
want to see her around here again,” he added as he held the phone to his ear
and ordered the person on the line to hang on.

“She's my wife,” Logan
said jabbing a thumb toward Rachel. “She's got my son with her.” Rachel pulled
the baby closer to her chest.

“Logan,
it's
okay--” Cassidy started again.

But this time
Bodner
interrupted her. He pointed a pudgy finger at John. “Pastor John,” Bret yelled
as John wished he could step into the shadows with Kevin. “Didn't I tell Logan
Cooper he couldn't bring her around here a year ago?”

Jesus, John didn't want to get involved
in this. Honestly he didn't give a damn if Rachel Fox came to the rodeo. As far
as he was concerned it was all bull shit and Bret
Bodner
needed to be more worried about the drug dealing going on in his organization
than a naked protester who didn't run naked anymore. After the baby, the woman
was carrying at least fifteen extra pounds, not that there was anything wrong
with it, but John was pretty sure she wasn’t going to expose herself in front
of ten thousand people.

“I, I don't remember,” John replied.
Shit, this sucked. He had made a shaky truce with the Coopers and he wasn’t
going to back track. Plus, he was getting damn tired of this whole Pastor John
thing.