The bull riding contest was underway when Royce joined the crowd behind Mr. Cook’s Feed and Grain. Bleachers were erected outside the corral fence so spectators could watch. From the size of the crowd every citizen in Junction City must have turned out for the event.
Bobby Smith rushed towards Royce. “I won,” Bobby shouted. He waved one hand. A five dollar gold piece was between his fingers.
“The horserace,” Royce asked. “Good for you.” He shook Bobby’s hand. The boy seemed to sprout over the weeks since school had started. His dusty jeans were inching up his ankles and the long sleeves on his shirt no longer reached his wrists. His new height slimmed the boy’s frame and narrowed his face.
“Come meet my folks,” Bobby said and led the way to where Mr. and Mrs. Smith were seated on the bleachers. The two boys and a girl seated with them Royce had seen playing on the school ground. Taking a place between Bobby and Mr. Smith, Royce watched the next bull rider wondering why any man would put himself through such punishment. He could understand bronc riding. At the end of your grueling time in the saddle you had a horse to ride. He had yet to see a man riding a bull down the road.
The crowd erupted into cheers as the young man’s time lapsed. It seemed they had their winner. A skinny youth with a shock of red hair and the bluest eyes Royce had ever seen. The grin on the lad’s lips reached from ear to ear as he limped out of the corral. The bull was maneuvered into a holding pen. “That’s Hank,” Bobby said. “He’s the best bull rider in these parts. He won two weeks ago over at Cooper Creek’s Fair.”
“He lives at Cooper Creek,” Royce asked trying to remember the importance of Cooper Creek. The next instant he was watching the tall skinny young man with more interest. Cooper Creek was the place the Mail Stage was robbed. Maybe he would take more interest in bull riding and ask Hank a few questions.
* * * * *
Faith glanced towards Mr. Hargadon and felt heat surge into her cheeks. Why had she ever mentioned Mr. Cook’s proposal to the man. Would she never learn to hold her tongue! It was too embarrassing! Only afterwards did she realize she was insinuating Mr. Hargadon had designs on her. The man had never indicated as much. Now . . . now she was unable to look at Royce without remorse. At the time she had felt she was doing the right thing. She moaned out loud causing Lydia to give her a speculative look.
“Faith,” Lydia asked.
“Never mind,” Faith replied. She would not confess her stupidity to Lydia or to anyone else. Worse still, Mr. Cook had joined the family group. True, he was talking to her Father but Faith was not deceived. Mr. Cook’s idea of courting would include winning her father over to his way of thinking. Once her father was persuaded then the man would turn his attention to her. Well, Faith was determined not to be fooled by the man playing nice. There was a mean streak in Mr. Cook. She had seen it in the way he treats his customers. Conceited, Faith thought before changing her opinion to arrogant. Mr. Cook was arrogant. Then she went on to list some of the other traits she attributed to Mr. Cook. Arrogant, haughty, superior, mean, cruel and vindictive all traits Faith found irritated her sensibilities. Pausing in thought, Faith tried to calm her increasing agitation.
The bull riding contest ended.
“Hank won,” Lydia said.
Faith used the roar of the crowd to cover her escape. Escape it was for Mr. Cook had stood after looking in her direction. She was gone before anyone knew of her intention. She rushed across the open field and caught up to Mrs. Houston
“May I help,” Faith asked. The woman was trying to corral her five excited children. The oldest boy was seven and the baby girl was five months old.
“Oh! Thank you,” Mrs. Houston replied as she headed towards the town’s business district. “It is time I put the children down for their naps. Naptime is the only time I have a few minutes to myself,” she confessed breathlessly.
Faith glanced towards the bleachers noting Mr. Cook standing next to Lydia and looking her way. He would never follow while she was carrying Mrs. Houston’s baby in her arms. Another fact Faith had overlooked. The man despised children.
“You will ruin your pretty dress,” Mrs. Houston said after taking another deep breath. She successfully had her children under control at last.
Faith looked at the sleeping baby in her arms. Her hair under a white cap was blond. Her face looking like a cherub was rosy pink with sleep. “I don’t mind,” Faith said softly “If you don’t mind I will carry her home.”
“You are a dear,” Mrs. Houston replied. One of her sons decided to explore the alley between the general store and the bakery while his mother was distracted. He came back pulling a large tabby cat by the tail. The animal was loudly protesting the harsh treatment. “Johnny let go!” His mother shouted letting go of her young daughter’s hand she hurried towards Johnny.
Johnny drug the cat by the tail the distance of another few feet. A wide smile was displayed on the boy’s impish face. “Ain’t he funny sounding,” the boy called. The next moment the cat turned and swiped at Johnny’s hand. Red whelps appeared. It was now Johnny howling while still refusing to release his captive.
“I told you,” the irritated mother said. “Now see what has happened.” She took the boy’s hand and looked at the bleeding scratch marks. At the same time the cat bolted for the alley. He ran into packing crates knocking them over as he disappeared from sight.
“A lot of hot water and soap will keep away infection,” Faith advised. There was
