Handful of Sky Read Free Page A

she called, capturing their unwilling attention. “Get those broncs unloaded. We’re here to put on a rodeo.” Her tone held no room for argument. The pair lethargically dragged themselves up and moved toward the horse trailer.
    Shallie had to work twice as hard as her hired hands to compensate for their deliberately sluggish pace. Her anger seemed to fuel the determination that had driven her for the past two years: She would be taken seriously in the world of rodeo. She wasn’t going to be defeated by a couple of Neanderthals like Hoskins and Cahill just because they had trouble taking orders from a woman. Working from the list Mr. Eckles had given her, Shallie separated out the broncs that were slated for the first go-round.
    “Hoskins,” she called out as she drove the fractious horses from the truck down to the bucking chutes, “get the gate on six.” With an exaggerated slowness, the beer-bellied hand crawled up on the catwalk and manned the sliding metal gate that partitioned off the last enclosure. Shallie drove a snorting dun-colored bronc down the metal-sided aisle. Pecos stood above the chutes on the catwalk yelling until the dun reached the end, then Wade lowered the gate to trap him. The air filled with the sound of steel gates clanging, horses snorting, rough cries, and dust as they repeated the same procedure until each of the six chute divisions held a bareback horse raring to be turned loose.
    By the time Shallie had gotten the bareback broncs sorted out and ready for the first event, the stands were filled. Nervousness hung in the air as thick as ozone behind the chutes. She looked into the contestants’ faces and saw nothing there except iron concentration as they set their minds to the task at hand. The public-address system crackled to life and the rodeo announcer began his spiel.
    “Welcome, folks, to our thirty-eighth annual Rodeo and Cowboy Reunion. As you know, the rodeo is held each year at this time to give all our local hands a chance to show their stuff and pick up a little of that prize money. This year, for the fifth year in a row, stock is being furnished by the Double L Rodeo Contracting Company out of Mountain View, New Mexico. Walt Larkin and his crewhave always done a real fine job for us and we’re pleased to have ’em back with us. Take a bow, Walt, wherever you are.”
    Shallie glanced up at the wooden box built over the bucking chutes, which held the announcer and a few officials. Mr. Eckles was whispering in the announcer’s ear. The announcer, a florid man in a maroon double-knit Western suit and string tie, covered his microphone and pointed down to where Shallie stood. She saw disbelief crease the man’s chubby face.
    “Heh-heh, folks, excuse me,” the announcer chuckled over the PA. “Appears I’ve made a mistake. Walt’s niece, Shallie Larkin, will be producing this year’s rodeo. Let’s wish the little lady the best of luck.”
    Because you think I’ll need it, Shallie fumed as she turned on a smile she didn’t feel in response to a thin smattering of polite applause. On a couple of the older, male faces in the crowd, she read open resentment. They’re mad, Shallie realized. Mad that a “little lady” was trying to invade their cozy, masculine world. Well, she thought determinedly, it would take more than a few sour stares to chase her away.
    “Now, let’s welcome the Cavalcade Riding Academy,” the announcer continued over the scratchy PA. A troupe of flamboyantly costumed equestrians thundered into the arena, executing a series of intricate maneuvers on horseback. The announcer broke in.
    “It gives me great pleasure to introduce this year’s rodeo queen from Coalla County, Miss Bridgie Sue Gates.” A heavily made-up young woman wearing a kelly-green pants suit with a white hat and white boots galloped full tilt into the arena, carrying an American flag unfurled behind her.
    “Ladies and gentlemen, our National Anthem.”
    Those words signaled a