Beau and Sweetheart of the Show

I had too much to do and too little time to do it in to worry about her since she was keeping her distance. But, I did wish the woman would go back and sit on her steamer trunk by her steer.

As usual, I was too tired when we left the barns to look for dinner and then hit the motel to put up with Jay and Eric's foolishness. Doubly so since they were supposed to be my partners for the skill-a-thon and a couple of rodeo events, and didn't feel at all inclined to discuss it seriously.

"Why the hell are you dumbasses even signed up if you don't want to try to win?" I snapped.

"You've got to learn to lighten the fuck up, College," Jay laughed. "Man, we're out of school. We're out of the fucking state. This is supposed to be time to kick back and have some fun."

Neither Keston nor his lackeys, nor many of the FFA crew at our school, had any aspirations of college. They really didn't see a need for what they'd already been forced to sit through, much less more since they were just going to work their daddies farms once they were done. Hence the nickname they'd given me "College" since, thanks to my parents pushing me, I'd come into high school knowing full well college was waiting for me on the other side.

And part and parcel of that were when we competed, I was in it to win it. For the scholarships above all, but also for the letters of recommendation I would need and myriad other things. Keston, Jay, and Eric (as well as no few others) were in it just to escape the classroom they hated and cut loose and have some fun. They didn't give a damn if they won or even made a decent showing as long as it got them out of classwork.

Whether they wanted to or not, they got serious while I drilled them on the skills. But, I had an edge over Mr. Buchanan. I didn't hesitate to punctuate wrong answers with a fist.

Along about midnight thirty, there was a pounding on the door. Only, not the outer door to the parking lot, but the inner door to the adjoining room.

I ripped the door open to find Princess Cow Pie standing there in a flannel that just about swallowed her, a pair of socks, and not a damn thing else I could see. Not even a smile.

"Would you shut the hell up already?" Pattie snarled. "Some of us are trying to sleep. And, if those two morons don't get it by now, you aren't going to beat it into them by morning."

"Sorry," I snarled back. "Didn't mean to interrupt your beauty sleep. God knows you need all you can get. We'll turn out the lights and bed down so you don't scare the steers in the morning."

I slammed the door in her wide blue eyes and rounded on Jay and Eric who'd just about fallen off the bed bending down like they could see up that shirt from there.

"Lights out in five," I snapped. "If you shake it more than twice, you're playing with it."

Of course, the two lunkheads had to fuck off trying to get Pattie to open the door again causing her to pound on the wall and shout threats to kick all three of our asses until I threatened to tie them to the bed with the sheets and gag them with their pillows. Knowing I was deadly serious, they elected, wisely, to shut the hell up.

As it turned out, Buck was on the other side of Pattie. Far enough he couldn't hear Jay and Eric, but he'd heard Pattie.

He was friendly and smiling when we stepped out of the room for breakfast call, but he was also more than just a little curious. Seeing me being accosted by the mountain of a man for the second morning in a row while Jay and Eric sidled off to the van, Mrs. Buchanan got curious and came over to find out what was going on.

And hit it off famously with Buck who it turned out taught one art class at his school in addition to his other duties. And the pair of them decided to screw with my and Pattie's worlds by having our groups breakfast together.

Dan and Mandi were, as usual, too into each other to give much notice, much less care, others had joined us. Jay and Eric hit it off with the six guys from Alaska like a house afire. Not surprising since I knew enough to know they were all delinquents in one vein or another.

What really surprised me was Matt getting sucked into the vortex whipping around our groups.

Meanwhile, Pattie and I did our best to pretend the other didn't exist.

At least until Buck came back around to the question he'd had that hadn't been answered to his satisfaction.

"So, just what was all the fuss and bustle last night?" Buck asked the table at large.

"Aww, College there is too serious," Eric replied. "He got all hot and bothered because he's going to have to fill in for Keston on the skills team."

"So, what's the problem, Kurt?" Buck asked. "You should already know the skills you'll need."

"Oh, he does," Matt piped up. "He just knows these two don't and don't care."

"Matthew!" Mrs. Buchanan scolded.

"What? It's true, Mom. Everybody knows Kurt is the best and doesn't have a lot of patience for people who don't even try."

"Oh, the best, now is it?" One of the guys chuckled. "No, I'm afraid not, little man. That would be Pattie here."

"Oh, please! She's a girl!" Matt said.

"Hey!" Both his sister and mother responded.

"Oops," Matt said as all the other guys besides me laughed.

"I used to think that too," another one of the Alaska contingent, a guy with a nasty looking scar on his right cheek said. "Pattie disabused me of that within a week. She's more of a man than most men you know, except she has to squat to pee."

"Hey, now, fellas," Buck interrupted. "This conversation is hardly fitting for the breakfast table or in mixed company either. Keep it clean or clean your spot and wait by the van."

"I agree," Mrs. Buchanan said, eyeing Matt. "Mind your manners, young man."

But, the damage (as if the train wreck already happening needed more damage) was done.

And it only got worse when Mr. Buchanan rejoined us after lunch and took a shine to Buck Williams (once he was reassured Buck had no designs on his wife). Mr. Buchanan, while he tossed aside the idea our respective genders had anything to do with it (quite loudly since his daughter and wife were right there), stated unequivocally that he didn't see how Pattie could possibly be better than me.

The rest of our groups settled into a friendly and good-natured rivalry centered around Pattie and me as their chosen champions for the week.

"Although, she has got much better legs," Jay and Eric put in.

Which led to a great deal of raised eyebrows and questions about just when they might have seen Pattie's legs. Which embarrassed Pattie and in turn made her apparent dislike or disdain for me much more pronounced.

But, come on! There were between two and three thousand participants from all over the country. There were somewhere in the neighborhood of ten thousand visitors and spectators throughout the week. How in all that's holy our little rivalry turned into the legend it did remains firmly beyond my comprehension.

Although, upon more mature reflection, Buck most likely played more than a part in it.

The animals we were showing were in a different genus, much less species. And I was showing three to her one. But, somehow the betting pool determined my ninth place with my Blue-butt and Seventh and Fourth with my Fine Wools somehow equaled out to her fifth with her Simmi-Immortal Cross steer since it was offset by my being called to compete for showmanship in the lambs division.

Our meat judging team took an undisputed second to the same Texas team who'd beaten us in State while Alaska fell to seventh. Their skills team romped all over ours at the third and ninth places.

Yet, somehow the growing betting pool had Pattie and me at about even with me just a tad ahead. I don't see quite how they figured it and my head swam every time Buck and Mr. Buchanan tried to explain it to me. But, they assured me that was how it was.

But, it was time for the rodeo-style events and, while I cared since I was now involved in them, I hadn't intended to be and hadn't put in the time on them.

Despite my low opinion of my two teammates, they could build fence like a couple of damn beavers. I almost felt like I slowed them down. Which I privately marked as even for their scores pulling mine down in the team skill-a-thon. Not that we had a chance against that crew from Montana, but we dusted Alaska nicely.

Then it was time for the two stupidest events it has ever been my misfortune to participate in; steer saddling and range milking.

In both cases, a damn near two-ton animal was tethered on a rope on one end with the loose end, twenty feet or better away, the team holding it was all that was keeping it from bolting. And our team had to put a saddle on the steer and have one of us ride it across the finish line in the one and in the other get a quart of milk out a cow while she was held only by that damn rope. Alaska, with Pattie at the helm, skunked us in both of those.

But, come on! Who the hell is ever going to try to milk a cow on a rope out in the middle of a damn rodeo ring?

The greased pig chase was almost a relief. Almost. At least I had rather more practice with it having to de-ball and inoculate litters before I could sell them and put it to bed quickly. Pattie, and her team, on the other hand, had more than a little problem. They came in dead last, but they were definitely the most fun to watch. In my opinion anyway.

It took five days and at the end, it came down to the sale. Five days of eating with them at every meal. Five days of our group intermingling more and more at the barns and picking up more followers from all around the nation besides in both their work and their downtime.

At the end of those five days, I think Pattie and I had a grudging respect for each other. At least I did for her. But, liking each other wasn't even anywhere in the room, much less on the table, I didn't think. This despite, or maybe because of, being shoved in each other's direction more and more to see what kind of fireworks might develop.

I sold a pig and two sheep and got five dollars more than Pattie did for her single steer. Our respective teams (as well as all the followers they'd sucked into their vortex) argued that for two hours before declaring the whole thing a draw.

But, those assholes still had one last card to throw. Because somewhere along the way, the whole thing had changed, without telling Pattie and me. Instead of which of us was better, it had become about whether or not we would get together.

And it was looking really bad for the team that thought we would.

But, it was the Fourteenth of February, Valentine's Day. Our hell week stamina test was about done. All we had left was the banquet where the belt buckles and ribbons, and more importantly the scholarships, would be passed out and the shindig after.

Oh, and there was that stupid popularity contest thing for beau and sweetheart which I didn't give a damn about during the jamboree which I would really rather not attend.

I might just have been the only one in the whole damn room that was surprised when Miss Arizona called my name to come get my belt buckle for being Beau of the Show and read off the name of my sweetheart.

But, when it came time to read the name of my sweetheart, I wasn't surprised at all to see Pattie's name. I don't know how they pulled it off, but I knew as soon as my name was called Buck and his crew and the Buchanan's and our crew were the moving force behind this debacle.

I hadn't really looked at Pattie that night until I called her name. It had become a force of habit, for both of us I think, to try not to acknowledge the other's existence. So, I wasn't really prepared for the vision I was presented with.

Pattie, or someone, had done something with her hair other than yanking it back in a ponytail it would immediately break free from or leave it a mass of tangled curls for all the world like a bramble patch atop her head. It actually looked pretty good all brushed and shiny. Hell, even that white lock that started over her left eye somehow looked more regal than a skunk's stripe that night.

I don't know, but she might have accidentally brushed up against some makeup somewhere. It wasn't enough to conceal her freckles, but somehow they didn't look like dirt smudges across her nose and cheeks.

And her eyes! Her eyes were like two crystalline lakes and breathtakingly beautiful now they weren't narrowed at me. Although, in fairness, it may have been the blue brush popper making them appear bluer than they really were.

I must admit, however, the Brushpopper blouse and Rocky Mountain jeans she was wearing, as I saw her for the first time without that bulky red nylon jacket, hugged a body that was most definitely all female and all perfectly right. That, by God, was how a woman was supposed to look!

I might have frozen for just a moment as I got my first really good look at Pattie that night, or ever without a lens of irritation and annoyance clouding my vision. I must have, as a slow smile edged across her face.

"You all right there, Curds?" Pattie asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Um, yeah, Cow Pie," I managed. "I'm good. I'm, uh, more than good actually. Congratulations, Sweetheart."

Her eyes had narrowed at my use of her nickname in response to the one she'd given me. But, they widened once more as I flubbed my line and forgot to tack on the "of the Show" to her title.

The three thousand strong crowd caught it all as I'd been holding the microphone and went wild and there was no choice but to go with my misstep and, after handing her the belt buckle, lead her out onto the dance floor as the band took the stage.

The moment was almost spoiled as I caught the opening line and got tickled.

"What?" Pattie growled dangerously.

"The song," I grinned at her. "Too perfect."

It wasn't until Diamond Rio hit the chorus that she caught the humor and giggled.

"I'd start walking your way," they sang. "You'd start walking mine. We'd meet in the middle 'neath that old Georgia pine."

More couples joined us as "our song" ended and they swung into another. Technically, we only had to dance that one song together. But, there was something about dancing with Pattie that hadn't been there when I'd danced before.

"Would, uh. Would you care to keep dancing?" I asked.

Pattie cocked her head and the small smile she'd worn since razzing me about the way I'd looked at her grew.

"You know, Beau. I think I would."

I had more fun dancing with Pattie that too short night than I'd ever had at a dance before. Enough that I joined in the chorus of boos when the band announced they were done and the dance was over for the first time in my life.

Between us, we managed to get them out for three encores. The final one, they insisted they would only play if everyone else cleared the floor for a reprise of "Meet in the Middle" for Pattie and me. Which everyone was all too happy to do.

I hadn't been paying much attention, hadn't had it to spare from the woman in my arms, but I guess we'd made an even bigger impression on the people at that jamboree than we had the whole week with our rivalry and the concomitant betting pool.

That, or they were hoping to see what I gave them when the song ended, sealing the final bet as far as they were concerned when I pulled Pattie in close as the song, and our dance, ended and I kissed her.

I hadn't really thought about it. It had just seemed like the thing to do. But, Pattie, who had moments earlier been dancing and laughing easily in my arms, tensed up and drew back.

Aware that I'd somehow messed up, I let her go and swept her a bow.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening, Sweetheart of the Show!" I said loudly which started everyone clapping and cheering.

Pattie glanced around and flushed crimson, but allowed me to escort her back to Buck and her group before she pulled away, and I turned to rejoin my group.

I took the ribbing from my cohort in good humor, even Jay and Eric, but I couldn't help but replay that last moment when I'd kissed Pattie and she'd tensed and pulled away.

I didn't know why I'd done it. Pattie and I had been much closer to enemies than even friends for the whole week until that night. I wasn't one to go in for that romantic foolishness. If I had been, I wouldn't have left my girl two states behind me in the arms of another guy to come to the damn show on Valentine's.

There was a knock on our room door just a moment after we'd closed it. I opened it half expecting either a winged cherub asking for his arrow back or an annoyed Pattie coming around for the slap she hadn't given me in front of everyone.

What I got was Buck.

"Heyla, partner. Come walk with me a minute."

I stepped out and pulled the door shut on Jay and Eric trying to figure out one last shenanigan to pull since we were leaving in the morning.

"You set this up," I accused as we stepped towards the closed swimming pool. "All of it. You were behind it all along, right from the start. And this is what you were after."

"Well, in my defense, I didn't expect you to kiss her," Buck admitted. "That may have spoiled what I was trying to do for Cow Pie. But, yeah. Everything else. Sure."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Oh, about a million and one reasons," I laughed. "So, why don't we start with the why? That list is bound to be shorter. Who is Pattie to you?"

"A student," Buck shrugged.

"So, what? You go around playing matchmaker with all your students or something?"

"If they need it, really need it, I do. Well, maybe not matchmaker so much as just helping them to get past their past. Showing them a good person if their past says a good person doesn't exist.

"Pattie needed that. And you are that. And you needed that. And Pattie is that."

"Me?! But, you hardly know me. Didn't when you first started us on this crazy train."

"I knew enough when I saw you dump that steer and rush off," Buck said. "I was sure of it when we shook hands that first time and then watched you try to work gentling that steer.

"You and Pattie both make the same mistakes. You both either look ahead to the future or behind at the past and fail to see what is right in front of you in the now.

"Now, I know exactly what Pattie's past is. It's my business to know. I don't know what yours is, it's not my business, but I could make a shrewd guess or two. But, that's neither here nor there.

"No. What I wanted to talk to you about is I need one more favor from you, and it's a big one. I don't think I'm exaggerating much when I tell you it could mean the difference between a long life filled with happiness for that little girl or a much shorter one filled with misery."

Maybe it was his hypnotic way of speaking. Maybe it was his personality which was almost a palpable force. But, whatever the reason, Buck's words captivated me and sent a frisson of cold up my spine.

"What is it?" I asked cautiously.

"That kiss was a mistake," Buck said. "I didn't see it coming or I would have headed it off. And it's not fair of me to ask you to fix my mistake, but I'm going to. And our time is short since we'll be leaving in the morning to head home.

"I need you to talk with Pattie. About what doesn't matter. But, just talk and spend time with her. Don't, whatever you do, do not try to touch her. Not even to hold her hand. I mean, don't pull away if she does, but don't reach out first, if that makes sense."

"That's it?"

"Anything beyond that is up to you two," Buck shrugged. "Don't know if the two of you want to keep in touch or not and it's none of my affair one way or the other. But, we just need to, at the least, wrap up what's going on and back off the damage that kiss might have done so that she has fond memories of this week and you instead of having a kiss forced on her."