Raw (11 page)

DINGALINGALING!

The big Brahman bull bolted from the holding chute, kicking and rearing to buck the rider clinging to its back. Hot rage snorted from its rubbery snout as it snapped its muscles up and down. Dust choked the air already thick with the cheering of the crowd. Clowns scrambled for their lives. The announcer's ringing voice counted the seconds. One. Two. Three. Another five and the cowboy would be a thousand dollars richer tonight. But no man had bested Sweety Pie the nine hundred kilogram bull yet. With one last flick, the animal shook the rider off smack onto the hard ground. The crow sat down again with a disappointed sigh then clapped politely at the announcer's begging. The bull had won again. But that didn't stop other
suckers lining up to have a shot at the unattainable prize.

The rodeo was in town and all the town was at the rodeo. And that included the guys from The Farm. Sam had been planning on taking them to the Mungindi show for months now. He did it every time the rodeo passed through. It was a reward for everyone not killing each other in the meantime — not to mention a great excuse for a night out.

Brett had never been to a rodeo before. The only ones he'd seen were on TV — and that was before he grabbed the remote. He always thought they were for hicks, country singers and wannabe cowboys: sideshows of Wild West freaks. And he was right. Young and old men dressed in jeans, checked shirts, boots and big, broad hats circled the main arena shoulder-to-shoulder, talking wisely about the world. Bow-legged riders flailed their bodies back and forth in remote corners, readying themselves for their turn on Sweety Pie. Linedancers bootscooted in front of a stand, clapping and kicking. Vendors sold leather goods and pictures of John Wayne, while nearby handlers steadied fretting steeds. The salty smell of battered Pluto Pups mingled with the stink of musty animals. Light towers glared warmly down on the centre ring in the fading purple twilight. And
a hundred gorgeous girls walked round the showground flirting with more than their eyes!

This was going to be a fun night out.

Brett hadn't thought that way a couple of hours before though. Paying to see a bunch of guys riding broncos and lassoing calves sounded boring. That was until Frog changed his mind.

‘You going tonight?' the kid asked about lunchtime, watching Brett pull wet laundry from a washing machine. It was Saturday. Wash day.

‘I don't think so.'

‘Everybody else is.'

‘Not me, kid. It's not my scene. Besides, I stayed up late last night. I'm tired and I need the rest.'

‘That's too bad then,' Robbie shrugged, barely hiding his smile. He jumped down from the top of the dryer where he was sitting then walked into the midday heat, whistling.

Now Brett wasn't stupid. He knew when someone was baiting him. But the tone in Frog's voice said he should chase after him or never find out what little secret the tadpole was keeping.

‘
Robbie
!' Brett growled, dropping his washing to chase after the kid. He didn't have to go far though. The brat was hiding next to the doorway, grinning.

‘You looking for me?'

‘What do you mean by “That's too bad then”?'

‘Oh, nothing.'

‘Tell me or I'll peg you up on the clothes line.'

The kid's smile widened. ‘Guess who's gonna be at the rodeo tonight?'

‘Who?'

‘That girl.'

‘What girl?'

‘The girl with brown hair from Thompson's store. The one you helped unload the ute a couple of weeks ago. The one that you
like
,' Frog sang.

Brett felt his cheeks grow hot. ‘Her? Why would I like her?'

‘Because I saw you perving at
Caitlyn Douglas
from the shed.'

‘Caitlyn? Is that her name?'

‘Maybe.'

‘Don't toy with me, kid, or you'll be the first man on the moon without a rocket!'

That
was
her name and, needless to say, Brett was on the bus come seven sharp!

Dressed in his familiar jeans, boots and overshirt, Brett stood at the ticket booth, hands on hips and looking round impatiently. Sam was holding out for the manager's okay to let all the boys in for free. When the nod came, Brett, along with the thirty-nine
other guys, stampeded though the gates. The old man tried to stop them but everyone was too busy running in all directions.

‘You all better be back here at nine-thirty or there'll be trouble!'

Brett walked anxiously round the rodeo ring, searching for Caitlyn. He homed in on every girl with caramel hair to see if it was her then double-checked every face when he found out it wasn't. The further he walked the more distressed he became, however. He couldn't find her anywhere. She wasn't leaning against the fence talking to some old farmers or sitting in the stands watching the show. Nor was she lining up at the hot food vendor waiting to be served. He tried outside too just to make sure, but all he saw was a muster of seedy-looking cowboys laughing and cursing and talking dirty about their girlfriends. Heading back inside, he didn't want to admit it, but he realised Caitlyn was a no-show. His excitement faded. He really wanted to see her. But now he felt lousy. A part of his mind was laughing at him for being such a fool, and all he could do was tell it to shut up.

Food was a great pick-me-up, so Brett headed for the hot food vendor. Ordering a steak sandwich with lots of onions and barbecue sauce, he dragged his
feet back to the stands to eat it. The crowd thickened and he had to fight his way through it. Munching and licking sauce from his lips, Brett was nearly free when he bumped into a girl walking in the opposite direction. He dropped his steak sandwich onto her nice clean orange T-shirt — and she dropped her cool exterior.

‘Oh, sorry —'

‘Why you —!'

Their eyes shot up at each other beaming hate. Brett looked at her and she at him. Instantly, their anger turned to shock. The last person he expected to see in Mungindi was —

‘Rebecca?!'

‘Brett?!' they said at once.

He lifted his best friend off the ground then set her back down laughing. Whoa, he thought, stepping back and giving her the once over. It really was her! Long red hair crashed about her shoulders and low-cut neckline. High cheeks glowed under the same flirting green eyes. And enticing lips shamelessly promised a wicked time for the guy with the smoothest pick-up lines.

‘What are you doing here?'

‘You first!' Rebecca said, when they stepped over each other's words again.

‘This is where they sent me.'

‘Who?'

‘The courts.'

‘The courts? What happened? Did you get into trouble again?'

‘Yer,' he said, scratching the nape of his neck. ‘The pigs caught me breaking into a bottlo. As punishment they sent me here to this farm about twenty kilometres out of town.'

‘Unlucky.'

‘Yer, well,' he shrugged. ‘But how about you? Why are you here?'

‘I'm here with the rodeo.'

‘What? You work for it?'

‘Yer, selling leather necklaces, belts, jackets …' Rebecca turned and pointed across the showground. ‘See that stall? Yer, that one. That's where I work. Jenny's covering for me for a couple of minutes while I grab some food.'

‘Looks like you already have,' Brett said.

Rebecca looked down at her T-shirt and smiled hopelessly. ‘Don't worry about that. It'll come off. Just think, if we hadn't bumped into each other we wouldn't know we were both here. Trippy, huh?' They smirked and their eyes lingered maybe a little too long on each other.

The crowd pushing past started to get more and more aggressive so they made their way to a safe spot near the showground's fence. There, he handed her one of his serviettes to help her clean the mess off.

‘I can't believe it's you,' Brett said.

‘Same here,' she answered, dabbing herself.

‘I've missed you.'

Rebecca looked up. ‘Have you?' she asked, grinning. She looked like a naïve schoolgirl and Brett fought back old feelings. ‘You found yourself a girl round here yet?'

‘No, not yet.'

She sidled closer and purred, ‘You looking for one?'

‘Maybe,' he answered, wolfishly.

The crowd roared with delight as another rider shot out of the holding chute. Like the rider, Brett felt out of control. He was caving in as he stood so near to Rebecca, remembering all the good times they'd had together. She always made him feel good — especially on lonely nights like this.

‘Are you here by yourself?' he asked, getting closer.

‘No, I told you I'm here with the rodeo.'

‘No, I mean are you here with someone?'

Rebecca paused. She pursed her lips and half-smiled. Brett knew that look. She was deciding
whether to lie to him or not. ‘His name's Joe,' she said. ‘He's one of the riders with the show.'

Conscious of their closeness, Brett winced a smile and stepped back. ‘Really? Good for you,' he said. ‘What's he like?'

‘Handsome. You should see him. He's tall with black hair and he's got this amazing body. And you know how much I go for men like that.'

‘Yer,' Brett said.

No sooner had she finished talking about Joe than she squealed in delight and waved to someone walking past them. She yelled out his name and said, ‘Here he is now.'

Dressed in black jeans and a white and grey checked shirt, a tall lean man about twenty-five with long, wavy black hair and a thin goatee stopped at the sound of his name, turned round and saw Rebecca. Cutting through the crowd, he strode towards her then greeted her with a long, passionate kiss.

‘Hello, kitten,' Joe grinned with big, shiny, white teeth, when they finally took a breather. ‘Miss me?'

‘Of course,' she answered with another kiss, arms draped over his shoulders.

‘Been watching the show?'

‘Bits.'

‘Only bits?'

‘I'm waiting until the “star” finally makes his appearance.'

They laughed and kissed and all that other lovey-dovey stuff. Meanwhile, Brett started looking for a bucket. He wanted to be sick. Unable to find one, he cleared his throat instead.

‘Oh sorry,' Rebecca giggled, red-faced. ‘Joe, I'd like you to meet Brett. He's a friend from Sydney.'

Smiling Joe and Brett quickly shook hands and gave each other a curt hello. The cowboy wasn't just big. He was strong too.

‘Here to watch the show, Brett?' he asked. Then privately aside with a snigger, ‘Or are you after a little action?'

Brett tried a grin.

‘There's plenty of it if you know where to find it,' Joe winked.

‘Hey!' Rebecca said, punching him on the shoulder.

He cracked up and they kissed again.

‘When are you on?' Rebecca asked.

‘In a couple of minutes,' Smiling Joe answered, his eyes skating all over her body. ‘I better get over there now. The other guys will be waiting for me.'

‘Can't you stay a few minutes more?' she said, holding onto his hips and giving that sad kindergarten look of hers. ‘I'm lonely.'

‘I can't stay, kitten. The show, okay?'

‘Then I'm coming with you,' she said. ‘We can hide behind the trucks and —' She whispered something dirty in Smiling Joe's ear before they both laughed. Brett felt his cheeks grow hot.

‘Catch you later Brett, all right?' Rebecca said as an afterthought. ‘Come and see me.'

Brett didn't have a chance to answer. Smiling Joe wrapped her up in his arms and they disappeared through a side exit. Fuming, Brett was overwhelmed by bad thoughts.

He pounded up the steps of a stand and sat down next to an old lady with purple hair. She gave him a dirty look for picking the seat next to hers, but he ignored it. He didn't watch the show, preferring to tune out instead. He wasn't in the mood. His ex had dumped him for an older guy: one of the sleazy cowboys he'd heard talking dirty about their girlfriends outside. He wanted a beer.

He was about to try and find one when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned round to tell whoever it was never to touch him.

‘Caitlyn!'

‘Hi,' she said.

‘G'day.' He was cool. ‘How long have you been sitting there?'

‘A few minutes. I thought you saw me when you were walking up the stairs, but I guess you didn't.'

‘No, sorry. I was kind of distracted.'

Caitlyn glanced at the side entrance Rebecca and Smiling Joe had disappeared through. ‘Something to do with your friends?'

‘Well, someone I thought was a friend,' he said, eyes down.

‘Is anyone sitting here?' Caitlyn said, pointing to the spot next to his. It was too small for anyone to sit comfortably in, but Brett made room. An appalled look in her eyes, the lady with purple hair eventually shifted over too.

Short for room, Caitlyn's shoulder, arm and hip pressed against his. Brett felt kind of excited but kind of cramped at the same time. This was the closest he'd ever been to her but she was in his space. He didn't know what to do.

‘Thanks,' Caitlyn said. ‘I hope you don't mind. It looks like you could do with some company.' There was
that
smile of hers again and Brett offered one of his own. ‘Who was the girl you were with?'

‘Nobody,' he answered. ‘Just an old school friend from Sydney. I found out she's hitched up with this rodeo.'

‘What as?'

‘One of those junk stall sellers. You know, the ones with pictures of John Wayne.'

‘Tacky.'

‘Tell me about it.'

The announcer introduced the next rider to the crowd, distracting Caitlyn and Brett for a second.

‘So what happened to your hair?' Caitlyn asked.

Brett's cheeks burned and he ran his hand over his spiky scalp. Looking at his feet, he said, ‘I thought I'd get a haircut.'