Page 3 of Lady Luck’s Kiss

JACK

He was bored.

Jack had gotten into bull riding competition on a dare.

And now, years later, it was his career.

There was a tremendous rush in bull riding and it was addicting.

The high you felt as you were in the gate?

The bull quivering angrily underneath you?

Heart beating, blood roaring, the crowd muffled as you focused on the bull’s angry breaths heaving in and out of him.

It was an endorphin rush he was addicted to.

His mind and body knew that at any moment, the gate would fly open, launching him either into success or pain.

Massive, great, heaping amounts of screaming pain.

There was no in-between.

Either you stayed on the bull or you got thrown. Being thrown hurt, but not near what being trampled did to a body! Jack Seguin definitely preferred staying on the bull and cashing his check. That is what made him good at what he did. This is what made him a career man.

He could read the bull, tell the signs. It was like they were almost circling each other as the great beast tried to fling him off.

Teeth-jarring, enraged stomping would sway into vicious turns.

What Jack found is that if you became limber, flowing with each jump like a rag doll, you stayed on.

Fighting the bull, tensing up or losing focus got you thrown.

That rush was long since gone.

The surge of adrenaline was fading.

Instead of it being the greatest thrill, it felt like work. It hurt. Things that didn’t ache before and had been broken or twisted over the years now ached or protested his every move at times. He felt old, yet he was barely thirty-five.

Bull riding had been lucrative, allowing him to purchase land and build a small house.

But it had also taken its toll. Once, he wanted to be in the big city, with the lights and atmosphere.

But now, he preferred his bit of property on the outskirts of Ember Creek, Texas.

It was small and quaint still even with the larger towns around it like Tyler or Longview.

He had a few more rides in him, but that was simply to pad his nest egg. He wanted to retire without worry in a small, comfortable lifestyle. Jack wanted time for himself, to enjoy a hobby or get to enjoy some peace and quiet. Not sleeping in the next bus to the next town.

Tonight’s ride had no appeal. Waiting for the next broken bone or hearing the horrifying crunch of his bones over the din of the crowd. The thought of ending up gored, broken or hospitalized lingered in his mind. He was skittish and that was dangerous.

The show tonight, at least, was close to home and he could sleep in his own bed tonight.

There was that much to be said for it. Jack woke, spent some time stretching and working the tight muscles of his body trying to loosen them up for his performance.

Giving up on the stretches, he opted to have his morning coffee in a small hot tub off the back deck.

The heat of the water allowed his muscles to relax, getting him a deeper stretch.

He would be back in the hot tub again tonight before taking off for the next show.

As he soaked and stretched his limbs in the hot tub, Jack looked out over the rolling hills.

It would be a hot one later today but, for now, the air felt cool against his heated skin.

He loved that there was no one else nearby.

It felt peaceful and serene. That was the reason he had bought the place.

It was outside of town but close enough to be convenient if he needed something.

As he had driven down the farm road, he thought the realtor was nuts as they drove down a gravel drive.

Instead of insanity, it was complete understanding he found.

The little, thin man had listened, understood and sensed what he was looking for apparently because in front of him lay the Garden of Eden.

In fact, that is what he called the property: Heavenly.

Jack had welded horseshoes and other metallic items into a sign that he mounted along the fence line. A massive, well-worn, split tree served as the very bottom rail of the fence and here he nailed the carefully crafted letters.

He left the unpaved gravel drive as it was, simply because it was a breathtaking, long route back towards the hills.

Jack never dreamed he would ever try to purchase more than an acre of land.

But when he was shown this property, he had to have it on the spot.

Thirty acres of green rolling grasses, a small creek and an entire hillside covered in bluebonnets gave him more than he could have ever asked for.

The house on the property had been quite rustic, but it functioned.

Once he cleaned it out, he built a deck on the back and put a hot tub upon it.

He thought once that the place would be a bachelor’s pad and that he would get some use out of the hot tub with the ladies.

Instead, the use he got out of it was only for himself.

Grinning, he thought of how lame it sounded to his own ears much less anyone else’s.

“Oh yeah, Jack’s got a place for the ladies complete with a hot tub he uses to stretch his sore and aching old-before-my-time body,” he mumbled and took a big sip of the black coffee before setting it down on the window ledge nearby.

“Jack, the ladies’ man,” he groaned and winced as he tried stretching his hamstrings out again. His body screamed as the tight muscles refused to let loose.

“Dang it,” he muttered, dreading the ride tonight.

After a time, Jack exited the hot tub and headed into the house.

Already, his muscles were loosening up and giving him some relief.

He rubbed ointment on his legs and hips to allow a bit more relief.

The foul peppermint smell stung his nose, but he could instantly feel the heating and cooling sensation causing his body to release.

Washing his hands, he pulled on his favorite pair of Levi’s and boots.

Grabbing a plaid show shirt with pearl buttons, he remembered fondly how much he hated the idea of “fancy buttons”.

After having been nearly gored, yanked from a horse or jerked out of the path of a bull, those fancy snap buttons gave way saving his life more than once.

He never saw the appeal until he needed them and now wouldn’t perform without them.

He put the plaid shirt on and skipped the belt.

No need to give the animal something to catch his horn on, he thought.

Slapping a hat on his head, he glanced in the mirror to see a tired reflection looking back.

“Almost done, old man,” he mumbled and stretched deeply, extending his arms far over his shoulders, reaching down towards his boot tips. He was willing to try anything at this point to loosen up his body. He was bored, tired of hurting and looking for more…but what?