Bullheaded

going to take it easy on you.” Dub’s grin revealed sharp cuspids. “You’re riding for a fall, and I’m just the one to kick your ass.”
    “You’re up next. Just remember, anything you can do I can do better.” Despite the jibes, Cody followed Dub to the chute. It was his turn to help Dub get set for the ride. Even with the trash talk and competitive jousting, all the riders knew it was only you and the bull once you were in the ring. The only person you could really compete with was yourself.
    As he bent over the rails, hanging onto Dub’s vest, other riders slapped him on the back as they passed behind him, as if he’d already won. Cody had to chuckle inside, knowing their congratulations had to be making Dub shoot steam out of his ears.
    “Don’t steal my check, now,” he said.
    “Will if I can,” Dub answered quickly.
    The remaining riders weren’t just going through the motions either. Dub was going to have to give it his all, and knowing the bull he was mounted on, Cody knew he’d make the eight seconds, but unless the bull sprouted a jet engine, Dub wouldn’t be able to overtake Cody’s score. This was his year. His ride percentage was in the stratosphere. The winner’s check from this event would make it possible for him and Johnny to stay on the ranch over the summer break, and he was really looking forward to it.
    He stayed put on the bars to watch Dub ride. It was a good one. Just not quite good enough. His bull was having an off night and that never made for a high score. When Dub bailed off the bull, he landed on his feet and immediately turned to point at Cody and gave him the number one sign, but judging by the look in Dub’s eyes, Cody had a feeling if bull riding wasn’t such a family event he might have gotten a different finger.
    It didn’t matter how often he won. Every time he felt that heart-stopping happiness, as if he might explode with joy. The feeling was electric, and he wanted to run around the ring shouting and pounding his chest. Instead he headed back to the gate.
    Stopping at the gate for a brief interview with Rex Durham, the TV reporter who traveled to the events with the NBR, Cody managed to thank his sponsors, family, fans, and the great country he lived in for the chance to do what he loved.
    The crowd was already cheering when Cody ran back out into the ring and knocked knuckles with Dub when he passed him. If Johnny had been closer, he might have done the same with him, but the three bullfighters were congregated near the exit gate, applauding him like everyone else.
    Leaping up onto the shark cage, confetti showering down on him, laser lights flashing, bursts of flame shooting up in the air, music blaring, Cody held up the buckle and pressed his lips to it lovingly for the cameras before turning in a full circle to display it to the fans. It was far from his first, but each one was a treasured possession, a symbol of hard work and pain and triumph. Somewhere behind the glare of the lights, he knew Johnny was standing there grinning and just as happy as he was.

    A FTER a shower and the usual play-by-play breakdown by Vern, Johnny was at last free to join Cody at the bar. He exchanged manhugs with both Reese and Vern on the way out. He wouldn’t see them for three weeks until they met up again in Chicago after the short break to work the touring division. As he stood outside the arena, he watched them get into their respective pickups and drive. Probably going home to their wives.
    Vern’s usual after-meeting made it impossible for Johnny to go to the bar with Cody, but maybe it was better that way. They hung out together enough as it was. No sense starting a train of thought in anyone’s mind that led to questions neither of them wanted to answer.
    When he reached the bar, raucous laughter and shouting was audible outside. Johnny didn’t like to drink much and sometimes a bunch of drunken cowboys could be a handful, but Cody would want him there to help celebrate his victory.
    He pushed the door open and went in, stopping just inside for a moment to locate Cody. And there he was, on top of the mechanical bull, naturally, showing off for a bunch of hooting, hollering riders, his charm gun turned up to full blast. He had a beer mug in one hand and held it so he didn’t spill a drop as the bull rocked and dipped. When he caught sight of Johnny, Cody’s gaze went seductive and sultry. He licked his lips and then laughed mockingly at himself. Luckily,