A Cowboy's Choice

He went back to the holding pens to view the bull he had drawn for his next eight second ride. He had viewed videos, and talked to other riders about this particular bull, but he had never met him face-to-face. Guess he was a different cowboy that way – he liked to meet his opponent in the flesh before the showdown. He liked to get a feel for the bull’s energy – the look in his eye.

Yep, Bentley appeared to be a mean one, just as hyped. Clint could feel the angry energy, could see the violence shooting from the dark eyes beneath the wicked horns. His name was rather misleading for a bull of such an ornery nature.

Clint hadn’t gotten this far in the game by chance. He had the scars and pains to go along with it. He was one of the “oldest” bull riders in the field. This would be his final ride. Now that he had a spouse and infant child, it was time to move on to less dangerous events within the rodeo lifestyle. He would always be a cowboy and loved it here. He was also a fine hand at riding horses and roping.

~~~

He climbed the chute to get on the bull. As Clint started to throw his leg over, the bull attempted to buck in the chute. Clint backed off until the wranglers got Bentley settled again, then Clint got on. He prepared his bull rope to secure his gloved hand, settled his seat and nodded for the gate to be opened.

The ride had begun. Eight seconds can feel like an eternity sometimes. His strength was pulled, and his balance challenged with every leap and twist of the beast beneath him. Clint struggled to hold on, his free arm swinging, and his chaps flapping in the dust churned up by Bentley's frantic hooves. Saliva streamed and swung from the bull’s thrashing muzzle. When the buzzer sounded, Clint released his hand and dismounted with a vicious toss of the animal. He hit the ground on hands and knees, scrambling into the nearest open chute for safety as the bullfighters risked their lives for his by distracting the angry animal to keep him from goring the cowboy. An incredible and courageous group of people! Clint was forever thankful for their skilled antics.

Upon safely exiting the arena, Clint finally let the thought run through his mind: he had won this ride – this last ride.

~~~

When the rodeo was over that evening, Clint drove home. After pulling into the long, gravel driveway, he stopped at the barn first to make sure the two stalled horses were safe. He topped off water buckets and filled the hay feeders. “Hey, fellas – your free-loading vacation days are over,” Clint told them affectionately. He smiled also toward the heavily pregnant mare, bred to a champion rodeo stallion. The expected foal carried hopes and dreams for the future.

After making sure the boys he was mentoring had taken good care of the horses for the night, Clint drove the rest of the way up to the old farmhouse at the end of the driveway. He walked into the house and swept his love into his aching arms. She had fed and put the baby down about an hour ago, so she was just getting ready for bed herself. Sheila returned his quick embrace with a short, but loving kiss. “Glad your home, Cowboy! Now take your hot salt bath and come to bed.”

Clint headed to run his bath. The baby’s room was on the way, so he wanted to check on her, too. He looked into the crib. She was sleeping soundly, looking so sweet and peaceful as she rested. “My sweet Savannah,” Clint spoke quietly, “we have so much to look forward to!” With that, he leaned down to kiss her gently on the forehead before stepping silently from the carpeted room.

~~~

Clint enjoyed his Epsom salt bath, soaking away the aches gained from the day. He finished up, heading to the bedroom for a restful night’s sleep in his own bed, next to his beautiful wife.

When he got to the bedroom, Sheila was sitting up cuddled in a blanket, nose buried in book. When Clint entered, she looked up. “How was the rodeo, Clint?”

“It was good. I rode that ornery bull for a full eight. It was a nice way to exit.” He smiled. “I think that mare is about ready to pop soon.” She smiled at him. He was asleep almost as his head rest upon the fluffy pillow. Sheila reached over to set her book down on the bedside table. She switched off the lamp so they could both snuggle into some good sleep before the baby awoke for her night time feeding.

~~~~

Clint had another rodeo competition in two weeks. It would be his first without bull riding, but competing in the roping events instead. He spent the two weeks at home, enjoying routine time with his wife, baby girl, chores and riding his gelding – the one Clint had raised from a foal and intended for rodeo roping events to replace the bull riding. The horse was doing pretty nicely. This would also be his first real rodeo competition, so Clint wasn’t expecting great winning, just good rides. This would be the last rodeo of the season. Late for a new foal, but Clint had timed it this way so that he had a good chance of being present for the birth and then spend a lot of quality time with the foal over the fall and winter before the circuit started up again, pulling his time from the family and farm. He was excited for this moment to watch his daughter grow, and to see what the mare would present.

He left again for the rodeo, horse trailer in tow.

~~~

When he got back after several days, he first stopped by the barn to unload the gelding, park the trailer and check on the mare. She was restless, pacing and pawing at the straw in her stall. In a calm voice, Clint spoke to her “Take it easy girl. I’ll be right back.” With that, he drove the truck up to the house, letting his wife know he was home and safe, then headed back to the barn to observe the mare’s impending labor. When he got back to the barn, she was laying down. He could see the sweat on her flanks and the milk starting to drip from her udder. Birth was imminent now. He had made it back just in time, or maybe she had even waited for him.

She got up and lay down again, trying to find a better position. The foal would be here soon!

The foal was born in text book fashion, and was up and walking and searching for the sustaining milk within the hour. Clint finally entered the stall when both mare and foal lay down to rest together. Clint was ecstatic to find the foal was a beautiful and healthy bay colt! Exactly what he was hoping for – the potential to raise up a magnificent stallion! He left them comfortably resting to return to the house, sleep in his own bed, next to his wife for the night.

Early in the morning, he awoke to check on the mare and foal. They were fine, the colt popping out his curious nose for a rub from Clint. He gave mare and gelding some hay, checked the water buckets, then went back to the house for a bite to eat.

After eating a hearty farm breakfast and cleaning up, Sheila bundled up the baby. They would all go down to the barn to welcome the newest member of the family. They also had to choose a name. Of course the baby was less than three months old, so would have no recollection, but it was important to both parents that Savannah be a part of this. After all, they would be spending a lot of time growing up together.

~~~

Eastwood – his name would be Eastwood.

Over the long winter, Sheila announced their expectancy of a sibling for Savannah. Clint was over-joyed!

~~~

The next spring, Clint returned to the rodeo circuit as planned. He went by to watch the bull riding. He didn’t long to return to it as much as he thought he might. No eight second ride would ever offer the same eternally fulfilling rewards as family life.