Ricky The Cool Cowboy

My son Ricky grew up around horses. He’s worked with us at the ranch since he was fourteen years old. He’s an excellent rider and accompanied us for years on every trail ride and pack trip. Whenever someone needed assistance on the trail, Ricky maneuvered his horse with such skill he was at their side within seconds. It didn’t matter where we were; on the side of a mountain or in a river, nothing stood in his way when someone needed a hand.

When Ricky was a teenager, he felt it important to maintain his “cool cowboy” persona. Not that he needed to prove anything. He was and still is an excellent horseman, and may I add as a doting mother, he’s now an Equine Surgeon. Yes, we’re extremely proud of him but back to the story.

I'll never forget one special weekend in Autumn when the weather was cool and crisp. Our good friend John visited every year with his friends around this time.

We had returned from a long three-hour ride. A tall, large woman by the name of Rachel slumped in her saddle the minute her horse stopped at the hitching pole. Her body weary, she wanted nothing more than to get off her horse.

We always assist people when mounting or dismounting but Rachel began to dismount before my husband Raul, or Ricky could get to her. She later told us she was so tired she thought it easier to slide down off the horse rather than make the effort of dismounting correctly.

While on the downslide, her blouse caught on the saddle horn. She stood suspended on her tippy toes unable to move. Even more alarming, her horse started to get anxious when he saw his buddies run off to the corral where green leafy hay awaited them. He wanted to go too. Scared to death, Rachel had no choice but to teeter on her toes for balance hoping her horse wouldn’t take off.

This was a dangerous situation. If her horse moved or spooked for any reason, he would drag her with him, provoking an accident for sure. I wasn’t as close to her as Ricky but when I tuned into what was happening my eyes locked on Ricky and his startling reaction. My cool cowboy froze where he stood. What happened to our young rider who never failed to save the day?

Not only was this woman tall, but I’d also say she was extremely voluptuous. So much, my dashing teenager halted in his tracks. I saw the blood drain from his face and the glazed expression in his eyes told me he had no idea what to do.

Raul, busy helping other people with their horses, didn’t notice the woman’s predicament until after Ricky forced himself to yell for help but no luck. Raul didn’t hear him. He then proceeded to wave wildly at him like an air traffic control person guiding in a plane. Raul briefly glanced at Ricky and said in a gruff voice, “I’m busy.”

A rumble started to rise in Ricky’s throat. Ricky and Rachel's apprehension transmitted to me. I watched as Rachel became increasingly desperate until finally, Ricky yelled in his loudest voice, “I need help over here!” I also called out to Raul and this time when he glanced up, there was a fire in his eyes. He took one look at Ricky, then at Rachel. He assessed the situation and in about four strides he was at her side.

He called out in a loud voice, “Everyone, close your eyes!” The rest of the riders turned around just in time to see Raul grab Rachel's blouse with both hands, he yanked it open and freed her from the horse. Buttons flew through the air and landed softly in the dust.

No one said a word. I thought to myself, do we clap, laugh, or what? Her ample bosom was exposed. I’ll never forget the lacy, light blue bra she had on which held everything firmly in place. Without a word, Raul turned away and went back to what he was doing.

One of our guests couldn’t contain themselves any longer and burst out laughing. Rachel and the rest of us who were so relieved we began to laugh too. Rachel quickly covered herself with what was left of her blouse. She thanked Raul and hurried back to her cabin to change.

Later that evening, I asked Ricky, “What the hell happened? You were standing right there, why didn’t you help her?”

Then I saw it. My young cowboy’s “cool” demeanor returned. He leaned in close, looked me right in the eye, and said, “Well, what did you want me to do Mom, grab her boobs?”

Before I could answer he winked at me and walked away. I decided it best not to retaliate. After all, what else could he have done?