A Harley
and
A Cowboy
By
S.G. McKinley
A Harley and a Cowboy
Copyright 2012 S.G. McKinley
Published by Sharon Watson
Smashwords Edition
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Preface
The broncos acted restless as if knowing they were to have their time in the arena, along with the bulls in the pen. The horses whinnied and threw their heads up, prancing around in the corral. The bulls ran at the fences, staring at the people walking by.
The cowboys stayed edgy, their jeans-clad bodies walking around.
“I’ll be glad when this season is over,” one young man muttered.
“Yeah, I agree. The rodeos get tougher every year,” another one chipped his two-cents worth in.
They adjusted straps and dusted the sand and grit off their pants and stomped their booted feet. A huge bull bucked and pitched in the arena, trying to get a cowboy off its back. He lacked two seconds so far having his time, and he hung on.
“Come on, hang on now! Two more seconds to go!” one of the men in the shoot yelled out.
The man on the bull held on for his time, and after landing on his butt, he jumped up and fled to the gates.
Another man rode before him and broke his leg when he fell and his bull stomped him.
In the process of running for a gate, one of the guys in the stall bruised his arm badly by hitting it on the side of the shoot after escaping into it.
Still, the rodeo stayed in their blood, and until they tired of the road and the stench, they planned to continue the life.
The rodeo clowns rushed around. A short clown dived into a barrel and another raced around a bull another cowboy was on.
Smells of the concession stands filtered around the arena, making the crowds hungry. The girls who did the barrel racing walked their horses where some grass grew plentiful, tethering the horses to nearby trees or posts.
Cowboys never knew where the rodeo life would lead them. One day a man could be on the road heading to another rodeo, and the next he might be fighting for his life because of falling off and getting trampled or getting horned. Many had failed marriages, while others stayed single because all they could handle were the animals, and they did not want a steady female in their lives.
Failed marriages is the case of one young man named Nash. He’d lived in the country all of his life, and he knew nothing else. He watched as girls came and went, as he traveled from town to town alone; at least until he drove into the small town of Cedar Creek. There, everything changed.
Chapter One
Chains has never been a typical woman. She doesn’t believe in fancy things. She feels that a hard life makes her a lot stronger.
Chains had married a few years ago to a man by the name of Franklin, and the union ended with her having to kill him in self-defense.
“I’m pregnant, Frank,” she’d finally gotten the nerve to tell him. “If you don’t want it, I’ll raise the baby myself. You can go your own way, and I’ll go mine.”
“The Hell you say, bitch! I told you I didn’t want any kids, and you got knocked up anyway? We’ll see about this little problem! You’re not going anywhere! You’re mine until the day I die, unless you go first.”
Franklin stalked to Chains, reaching out and slapping her hard. She fell against the kitchen table, and he came up with a booted foot and kicked her in the side. Another kick landed on the back of her leg. One more vicious kick to the stomach made her curl up in a ball, and she began hemorrhaging. Franklin became relentless, kicking and beating her everywhere he could a spot. After tiring, he walked into the living room to a cabinet and got out a bottle of whiskey. He wanted to finish it before he went back to work on his wife.
Chains struggled to get off the floor, crawling over to the corner of the kitchen where she kept a shotgun for protection. She kept it loaded at all times. As Franklin came back into the room to issue more beating, Chains reached out shakily, grabbed the gun, rolled over, and blew a hole through him.
“You’ll no longer hit me or beat me. I’m tired of your abuse.”
She felt weak, but crawled to the phone and called the sheriff’s department, since she didn’t trust the city police.
“Hello? This is Chains…I mean Carly. I need some help…please? My husband beat me, and I just killed him. I need a doctor. He made me lose my baby.”
Within ten minutes the sheriff and paramedics arrived.
“Oh God, Carly! You hang in there!”
“I will. You know I’m tougher than I look.”
“Yeah, no more talking. You lay still and let these men help you. I’ll go look at Frank.”
One look at the gaping, bloody hole was all it took to see that Franklin was dead. The sheriff waited for the coroner to arrive and officially pronounce the man deceased, and in the meantime, he went back to kneel by Chains while the paramedics treated her.
Once the coroner arrived, commenting that the man was dead at the scene, the sheriff ruled the murder as self-defense. The paramedics rushed Chains to the hospital, where they kept her for a week in order for her to start healing. The baby was lost, and she needed bed rest.
After she healed, the sheriff told Chains, “Hon, why don’t you try to put this behind you? Make a fresh start, if you can. I know you’re hurting, but maybe someday you can find a decent man who will take care of you and love you like he should.”
The sheriff allowed Chains to walk away. She packed her belongings and moved shortly after. She didn’t want the memories.
Chains rode her Harley into Cedar Creek, Texas, that year, planning on settling down and creating a new life.
At first she had it rough, but after a while the people in town grew used to her and her noisy, rumbling motorcycle. She found a job, a house, and she didn’t cause any trouble, unless it came looking for her. If trouble came to her, she tried to get help with it.
*****
Chains walked into the local café the day before the rodeo was due to start. As she sat on the barstool at the counter, the woman behind it came to her and asked, “Hon, what would you like today?”
“A cup of coffee to start, and a soda, cheeseburger, and slice of pecan pie will work. Thanks!”
“You bet, anytime! I’ll get your coffee, and the other I’ll bring when your burger gets done. You beat the noon rush. From the look on your face, you must’ve had a rough morning.”
“Yes, Ma’am. About the time I had one bike fixed, it sprang an oil leak. I went home to change out of the oily clothes, and one of the bikers and I had a run-in. He’s a loud-mouthed braggart. He is one more man that I don’t get along with.”