So, The Cowboy Stakes His Claim/Chapter 5

The following morning, I was awakened by the sound of Zippy, my dear, fiercely loyal sheltie, barking, at 6:30, and, my dad was tapping on my door, letting me know my ride to the barn had arrived. Ack!!! Ride to the barn? I crawled out of bed, and, quite literally, ran around in a circle, not knowing what to do next. I could see Tim’s red and white chevy pickup sitting outside my bedroom window. My dad generally dropped me off at the barn at 7:30. What on earth was Tim doing here at 6:30?? Shower! I had to take a shower! I could hear voices in the kitchen—dad’s, Tim’s, and, another male voice which I did not recognize. I rushed to grab some clothes, and, snuck from my bedroom into the bathroom. I showered quickly, washing my hair and body with hands that shook, and, quickly put on some makeup and got dressed. I had grabbed my barn jeans, which were faded, and, so baggy that the hung low on my hips(I had no other clean long pants), and, a cut off t-shirt. I added a bra this time, due to my father being present, and, the unfamiliar male voice I heard in the kitchen. All this was accomplished in ten minutes!!! I entered the kitchen, carrying my boots and socks, to see Tim at the table with another man about his age, having coffee with my dad. Oh, God, what had they been talking about while I was in the shower? My school grades? Tim said, smiling, “I thought you said you always got up at the crack of dawn?” He then looked at his watch, and, raised an eyebrow. My dad defended me, gallantly, “She usually gets up around this time on the weekends! This is sleeping in, for her!” Still, I was embarrassed, strangely, to have been caught sleeping, at all. I looked at the stranger who sat across from Tim, wondering who he was, and, why he was in my kitchen. Tim introduced him,”Shell, this is JD, and old friend of mine. He got in about four this morning, and, he’ll be here for a few days.”JD…that name sounded familiar. JD spoke up, his voice much louder and deeper than Tim’s, “I think you showed under my dad a few times. I remember your mare, Betty.” Ah. That JD. JD was a rodeo roper who was just starting to make a name for himself in the QH community. I had once flushed a very embarrassed JD out of the dressing room of our horse trailer, along with a busty girl out of Texas named Lisa. I smiled at the memory, and, JD went on to say, “Tim’s been telling me about his cute little Minnesotan filly, and, I wondered if it was the same girl!” Tim had been calling me his filly? I heard nothing after that, though I know that JD spoke a bit longer…I looked at Tim, who was looking at me. I’m not certain, but, I think I saw a flush of embarrassment creeping up under the tanned skin on his face. I asked him, “So, is this the day?” His expression changed…I could not read what he was thinking, but, his eyes were very bright, as they stared into mine. “The day for what, darlin’?” he asked, very softly. I was suddenly overwhelmed by the image of his thumb brushing over my nipple, from the night before, and, my legs weakened. I wished, desperately, that my father was not sitting next to Tim. I said, coolly, however, “You’ve been threatening to teach me to rope! I thought maybe you brought JD here to help!” Tim laughed, “Hell, I wouldn’t put JD through that! We came to take you to breakfast, then, we’re all going down to the show in Lincoln. The roping’s in the afternoon.”
Lincoln, Nebraska, was about an hour away. I hadn’t realized Tim was showing there this weekend. And, roping was NEVER in the afternoon. “I’ve got colts to ride, though, Tim.” “Who?” Tim wanted to know. There were a couple of private clients whose horses Tim had brought to his barn for me, since he was tired of driving me all over town to different barns. I told him, and, he replied, “Well, then we’ll skip breakfast.” Why was he so determined that I go to Lincoln? I got my answer, from JD, who said, laughingly, “Tim needs you to show Spartan in Junior English.” That made sense!! I had been working with Tim, trying to give him equitation lessons, and, he had been somewhat less than enthusiastic about donning breeches and a hunt coat, and, bouncing up and down like a frog(his reference to posting). Spartan was a young stallion I’d been riding, though Spartan’s owners were actually clients of Tim’s, and, I don’t believe they knew Tim had only been on him half a dozen times. I looked at Tim, “Were you going to tell me? Did you think I was going to show in these clothes?” He grinned, “Well, I was going to tell you shortly.” My hunt outfit was in my trailer, which was over at my friend Kathy’s house. “My boots and hat are over at Kathy’s,” I told him. “That’s okay, darling! We’ll stop over and pick them up,” he drawled, good naturedly.So, I pulled on my socks and boots, and, Tim, JD, Zippy and I were off!
As it turned out, it was more than my services as a rider that Tim required, that day. He needed my trailer, as well! There was no sense in using the twelve horse to haul a single horse, and, we had a little two horse gooseneck. I checked the dressing room to make sure all my gear was in there, then, we stopped at Wayne’s to pick up Spartan, and, my old Stueben(which was filthy!) and bridle. Spartan loaded right up, like an old pro, even with Zippy yapping at his heels! We arrived in Lincoln shortly before the lunch break, and our class was right after the break. We got several curious looks as we pulled onto the show grounds. I hadn’t been to many shows in Nebraska for several years, and, particularly not with a cowboy named Tim Hoyt. The boys found the concession stand, along with the beer they had stashed in my dad’s cooler, and, I unloaded Spartan and set about getting him glammed up for his class. In the dressing room, I realized that I had filled out a bit, since the last time I donned my hunt outfit. The stretchy grey breeches were alright, however, the shirt was a bit snug, along with the coat. As I stepped out of the dressing room, into the bright sunlight, I heard a wolf whistle with a twist(very high and fast), and, Tim saying, “Darlin’, would you be willin' to wear them pants everyday?” I had never thought about it before, but, my hunt breeches were very revealing, and, my cowboy had noticed. Funny that I had worn them for years, and, never been aware of how revealing they were! I put my coat on, and, handed my number to Tim, “Can you pin my number on?” I asked, turning my back to him, and, pretending not to notice his eyeballing. He pinned on the number, and, as he finished, I felt him lift the back of my coat up, for another look at my rear end. JD was just coming around the corner to witness this lewd behavior, and, rather than embarrassment, I felt, strangely, pride. Though JD stood there, looking at us with a beer in his hand, Tim openly cupped my rear end, then pulled me against him briefly, before releasing me. I went, on wobbly legs, to retrieve my bridle from the dressing room. I marveled at the attention I was getting. When we were alone at the barn together, he barely touched me. And, of course, I would NEVER touch him first.
The bridle, like my saddle, was filthy, and, I cleaned it off as best I could. I was not used to last minute showing…my family took showing very seriously, and, were always meticulous with preparation. I asked Tim if he’d try to clean my saddle off a bit, while I clipped Spartan.

The class was a success, as Spartan and I were first out of thirty, though, I think it was more related to the fact that Tim walked me to the gate(this was a big deal, back in the day. If you had a big named trainer, they would lead you and your horse up to the gate, so that the judge could easily see who you were affiliated with.. Tim was certainly not my trainer, and, in fact, it could be argued that he wasn’t even Spartan’s trainer) than our performance in the ring. Spartan broke into a canter at one point, though I caught him mid stride, however, it was right in front of the judge. Still, for his first show, he was a very good boy, and, there was even a mare in season in the class, which sometimes spelled trouble for stallions in performance classes.
Tim and I had been getting lots of curious looks, throughout the day, and, of course, Tim had his usual flock of admirers following around. I knew most of them. I did my best to act casually, and, professionally, though, inside, I was a bundle of nerves, and, something else, which I could not identify. Several individuals approached us after Spartan’s class, as we walked back to the trailer. Tim walked beside me, with his hand on my thigh, as I rode Spartan. I wondered what folks thought of that. I was surprised at his casual display of affection, given his concern over my age, and, how being the beau(as he referred to himself) of a teenager would effect his reputation. When we got to the trailer, I hopped off Spartan, and, right into the arms of my cowboy.