Christmas Baby for the Cowboy (Sweethearts of the Rodeo #4)

Chapter Two

Taylor Keating

San Antonio, TX

T aylor Keating adjusted the brightly colored shirt that marked him as a bullfighter. The fabric was designed to catch a bull’s attention and make sure that it went after him instead of the rider. He flexed his fingers inside his leather gloves, the material supple from years of use. The San Antonio Rodeo arena bustled around him, a rhythm he could navigate blindfolded after years on the circuit. Each sound, from the clang of metal gates to the low murmur of the gathering crowd, clicked into place like puzzle pieces in his mind.

The late afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, turning the arena into a dusty oven. Sweat beaded on Taylor’s forehead, and he wiped it away with a bandana before it could sting his eyes. He’d need every ounce of focus for what was to come.

“You ready, Keating?” called out Jake, one of the other bullfighters. His outfit mirrored Taylor’s, designed for mobility and visibility.

Taylor nodded, his throat too dry for words. He reached for his water bottle and took a long swig. The cool liquid was a stark contrast to the heat surrounding him. As he screwed the cap back on, his thoughts drifted to Loretta. He wished she was in the stands watching him, but she was busy with her art booth, trying to make ends meet.

A pang of guilt shot through him. He should be doing more to provide for them. That was why he was here, wasn’t it? Yeah the bullfighting gig paid a guaranteed salary, but the big money was in winning the bull-riding events. But every time he thought about telling Loretta he was going to step away from the steady paycheck and take his chances on the hefty purses the UPRC offered to the winning bull rider, he chickened out.

His father had supported him on a bullfighter’s salary. Taylor needed to support his son first—even if the money for a successful bull rider could be life-changing for them. He could afford to buy them a house. Loretta wouldn’t have to go to all the rodeos, unless she wanted to. She could concentrate on her art. She was hella talented and he would love to see her get the recognition she deserved.

“All right, boys.” The booming voice of the arena director cut through Taylor’s brooding. “We’re live in five.”

Taylor closed his eyes and took three measured breaths. With each exhalation, he imagined pushing out his fears and doubts. Then, he clapped his hands three times, a ritual that helped him focus his energy.

Finally, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn leather cord. Tied to it was his mother’s wedding ring. Taylor never wore it in the arena for safety reasons, but he always kept it close. He pressed the ring to his lips, then tucked it safely back into his pocket. It was his way of carrying his mother’s memory and strength with him into each performance. One of these days, when finances were more secure, he was going to give Loretta this ring and ask her to marry him.

Taylor did a series of stretches, limbering up muscles that would soon be pushed to their limits. With each movement, his focus sharpened, the outside world fading away until there was nothing but him and the challenge ahead.

A ripple of nervous energy passed through the group of bullfighters. They gathered in a tight circle, arms around each other’s shoulders. No words were needed. They all knew the risks they faced every time they stepped into the arena. A nod from each man was enough, a silent pact to watch each other’s backs and protect the riders.

As they broke apart, Taylor caught sight of his father, Barney, in his full rodeo-clown regalia. The older man was holding Georgie, showing him off to a group of admiring fans. A surge of pride and affection washed over Taylor as he gazed at his son, but a familiar twinge of frustration followed. Barney needed to keep Georgie away from the arena when the bulls were out. But his father always did what he wanted and to hell with everyone else’s opinion. That was why his mother had left him. That and she had gotten sick of traveling from rodeo to rodeo with a baby. Taylor pushed guilty thoughts that he was doing the same thing to Loretta and Georgie to the back of his mind.

Barney handed Georgie off to Loretta’s brother-in-law, Shane, and jogged out to the center of the arena. Tipping his comically small cowboy hat to the crowd, Barney bellowed, “Howdy, folks!” His voice cracked with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Y’all ready for some bull riding?”

The audience cheered in response.

Barney launched into a series of exaggerated, rubbery movements, mimicking the swagger of a cocky bull rider. His knees wobbled comically as he pretended to mount an invisible bull, drawing guffaws from the stands.

Spotting a young cowboy near the chutes, Barney sauntered over, his walk a caricature of bowlegged swagger. He snatched the cowboy’s hat, placed it atop his own tiny one, and strutted about like a puffed-up rooster.

The crowd howled as Barney began an impromptu dance, his lanky limbs flailing in a parody of line dancing. He twirled, stumbled, and recovered with a flourish, each misstep perfectly timed for maximum comedic effect.

“Now, let me introduce you to my staff,” Barney said, gesturing to the bullfighters.

That was their cue.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins. He had to admit, he loved being a bullfighter. He was good at it and when he was out there in the arena, he didn’t feel like he was second best to his father. Those feelings came later.

Taylor took one last deep breath. He pictured Loretta and Georgie in his mind, their faces a talisman against the danger he was about to face. Then, with a nod to his fellow bullfighters, he stepped out into the blinding sunlight of the arena.

Barney introduced each one of them and the five bullfighters waved to the crowd.

The cheers washed over him like a wave, but Taylor barely heard them. His senses were narrowed to the dusty ground beneath his feet, the sturdy fence surrounding the arena, and the chute where the first bull waited, snorting and pawing at the ground.

“Now, I’ll be back later,” Barney said. “Don’t take your eyes off the action.” He jogged to the far side of the arena to give everyone room to work.

The bull rider mounted, and Taylor moved into position. His muscles were coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. The chute flew open, and chaos erupted.

The bull burst out, all rippling muscle and raw power. Its rider, a young woman Taylor vaguely recognized, clung on for dear life as the massive animal bucked and twisted. Taylor’s eyes never left the scene, calculating distances, anticipating movements.

Eight seconds passed in the blink of an eye. The buzzer sounded, and the cowgirl made her dismount. But something went wrong. The rider’s foot caught in the rope, leaving her dangling precariously from the still-bucking bull.

Taylor didn’t hesitate. He sprinted toward the danger, his bright shirt fluttering to catch the bull’s attention. “Hey!” he yelled, waving his arms. “Over here, you big ugly side of beef!”

The bull’s head swung toward him, nostrils flaring. The other bullfighters worked to get her clear of the bull. One cut the rope, two others grabbed her and pulled her free. The bull kicked out, narrowly missing them. Running up, Taylor whacked the bull on the nose and then scooted back. He now had the bull’s full attention. Taylor continued to taunt the animal, drawing it away from his co-workers while they got the rider out of harm’s way.

For several breathless moments, Taylor danced with death. He darted left, then right, always just out of reach of those deadly horns. The crowd was on its feet, but Taylor barely noticed. His world had narrowed to the heaving flank of the bull, the dust beneath his feet, the thundering pulse in his ears.

Finally, the other bullfighters managed to guide the bull toward the exit with the help of Marty Kreeger who was on horseback. If the bull hadn’t obliged, Marty would have roped him and forced the issue. As the bull disappeared into the chute, Taylor hopped over the railing and joined the other bullfighters.

“Damn, Keating,” the rescued rider said, her voice shaky. “That was some fancy footwork. You saved my hide out there.”

Taylor straightened, managing a tired grin. “Just doing my job.”

But as he looked up, Barney stepped in front of him. “All in a day’s work, ma’am.”

The other bullfighters shared glances with him and rolled their eyes. Barney didn’t mean to steal all the glory, he was just used to it. Taylor loved his father, respected his legacy. But how could Taylor ever prove himself, ever be more than just Barney Keating’s son, if he stayed in the shadow of his father’s profession?

He had to find a way to break into bull riding. That’s where the real money was, where he could make a name for himself separate from his father’s legacy. But how could he do that without having to listen to Barney bitch about it, and without putting even more strain on his relationship with Loretta?

They had been living together in her family’s Winnebago ever since Georgie was born. It was tight quarters, but it felt like home to him. He knew Loretta had bigger plans and he and Georgie had put a wrench into them, but she never complained. They were good together, both before and after Georgie. Sure, he wished they had more time to be alone together. But having a family was pretty great too. It would have been better if Georgie had come along a few years later than he did, but life didn’t work out that way.

And now it was back to work. The riders made it through the first round of the women’s bull-riding event without any other incident and now it was time for a short intermission.

Barney sauntered into the arena, dragging a large blue barrel behind him. He circled it, eyeing it suspiciously, then gave it a gentle kick. The hollow thud echoed across the stadium.

Scratching his head, Barney walked around the barrel again. This time, he tripped over his own feet, stumbling forward. His momentum carried him headfirst into the barrel, his legs kicking comically in the air as he disappeared inside.

The barrel rocked back and forth as Barney’s muffled voice called out, “Hello? Anybody there?” His legs flailed, trying to find purchase.

Suddenly, the barrel tipped over and began to roll. Barney’s arms and legs poked out of either end as it picked up speed, careening around the arena. He scrambled like a hamster in a wheel, his limbs a blur of motion.

The barrel zigzagged erratically, narrowly missing the fence. It spun in tight circles, then shot off in another direction. All the while, Barney’s bewildered face appeared and disappeared as the barrel rotated.

Finally, the barrel slowed to a stop. There was a moment of silence before Barney’s disheveled head popped out, his hair standing on end and his eyes crossing. He blinked owlishly at the laughing crowd.

With as much dignity as he could muster, Barney extracted himself from the barrel. He stood up, straightened his rumpled clothes, and took a deep bow—only to lose his balance and topple backwards into the barrel once more, his legs kicking helplessly in the air.

Taylor shook his head. He was looking at his future and he didn’t want to be a rodeo clown. When Barney’s back and knees had gotten too achy to be an effective bullfighter, he had veered into rodeo-clown territory and that’s when his popularity really hit the roof. He was a crowd pleaser in his own right and even had a fan club. Loretta’s sister, Dolly, had helped him set up a TikTok account and he pestered everyone to take videos of him doing his schtick.

Looked like Shane got the short straw today, his cell phone out and recording. As Barney went out to do another routine while the 4-H club set up for a demonstration, Taylor sought out the cool shade of the preparation area. It was a relief to get out of the sun. He slumped onto a bench and guzzled from a water bottle he kept handy in order to make sure he stayed hydrated. It was nice to take a break, and he must have nodded off because the next thing he heard was his father’s voice.

“There’s your daddy.”

Taylor opened his eyes to see his father approaching with Georgie in his arms again. The baby was starting to fuss, clearly overwhelmed by the noise and excitement.

“Hey, Dad,” Taylor managed, forcing a smile. “And there’s my little man. Come here, buddy.” He reached for Georgie, but Barney held on.

“Now, now, let your old man have some time with his grandson,” Barney said, rocking the baby gently. “You should’ve seen him earlier. He had the whole crowd eating out of his hand. He’s going to be a real showman, just like his grandpa.”

Before Taylor could respond that maybe Georgie wanted to be something other than a rodeo clown, Loretta’s sister, Dolly, appeared with Georgie’s stroller and diaper bag.

“All right, Barney, hand over my nephew. It’s time for a diaper change.” She fixed Barney with a no-nonsense look that had him sheepishly handing over the baby.

“How’s Loretta doing?” Taylor asked.

Dolly shrugged as she settled Georgie into his stroller. “Busy. She’s not selling as well as she hoped, but you know Loretta. She’s not giving up.”

The guilt that had been simmering in Taylor’s gut all day threatened to boil over. He should be doing more, providing more. Maybe in the off-season when he went down to Mexico and South America, he’d try to do both bull riding and bullfighting at the same time.

“Well,” Barney said, clapping Taylor on the shoulder, “you did good out there today, son. Real good. Your mom would’ve been proud.”

Mom would have been scared shitless. She’d hated that his father had dragged him into what Barney called “The Family Business.” She had hoped Taylor would have chosen a safer profession. And he was sure she hadn’t been talking about bull riding.

As Dolly wheeled Georgie away for his diaper change, and Barney launched into a story about his own rodeo days, Taylor found his mind wandering. He pictured himself on the back of a bull, eight seconds away from glory and a paycheck that could change everything for his little family.

Someday, he promised himself. Someday soon, he’d find a way to make that dream a reality. For now, he’d keep working, keep saving, keep looking for his chance. Because Loretta and Georgie deserved everything he could give them, and more.

With a sigh, Taylor pushed himself to his feet. There were more bulls to face, more riders to protect. And somewhere out there, a future waiting to be seized. He just had to find the courage to reach out and grab it.