Cowboy Up

"I'm sorry, Cliff, but no, there's nothing. I'll work the next 30 days per my resignation letter, but barring some direct revelation from God himself, I'm afraid that's it."

"All right. You win. Your win is our loss, Jaclyn. I have no idea what you intend to do, but I have no doubt you'll be successful at it. You're as brilliant as they come and well, I've never told you before, but you're as beautiful a woman as I've ever met. I'd never admit this outside my office, but it's true. Pretty much every male doctor on staff has enjoyed working around you for both professional and rather obvious personal reasons—myself included." He smiled a rare smile then said, "I sincerely wish you all the best."

Jaclyn laughed for the first time and said, "That's quite a compliment, Cliff, and it means a lot to hear you say it."

Dr. Evans was a man of few words outside of his profession. He was all business, all the time, and Jaclyn had never once heard him pay her or any other woman on staff a personal compliment of any kind. She thanked him for saying it and hoped he was at least partly right as she shook his hand and left the office.

She had been blessed with good looks. That wasn't in dispute. Some might even argue she'd been blessed with exceptional intelligence. She'd just never had to do anything to earn or develop the former. It was nothing but the result of good genes and she had no more control over it than those not similarly blessed. She'd been sought after and hit on for as long as she could remember, but the thought of a serious relationship—anything more than a brief affair—was something that scared the hell out of her. Anything that might compete with surgery had always been the enemy. Her only exceptions were yoga and spinning—things she tried to find time for five days a week. Beyond that it was day-on, stay-on—work.

She still had no real idea what she'd do once she left Parkland, all she knew was she had to leave and that she was now wholly dedicated to finding love, romance, and starting a family. When, if, or how it might come to her was a mystery, but she'd long been a believer that luck was where opportunity and preparation met. She was now fully prepared to fall in love; all she need do was to wait patiently for opportunities to present themselves. From there, her instincts, her intelligence, and her heart would guide her path. Of that she was certain.

She said her goodbyes, hugged Cliff briefly, then headed out. She had someone coming to pick up her boxes and bring them to her house so as she left, she carried only her purse and her once ever-present black bag—the two things she'd brought with her some five years ago.

*****

Four months earlier: March, 2016

He sat there staring at the bottle as the war continued to rage inside him. A part of him wanted to reach out and grab it and start chugging while another part of him begged himself not to. It had been almost three months since she walked out on them and drinking was the only thing he knew that took away the pain. Then again, he knew it didn't actually take anything away, it just buried it for a few hours. But those few hours were the worst. The hours from when he got home from work until he went to bed.

Whiskey had killed many such nights since she left and here he was wrestling with his demons again debating whether he'd silence them one more time for a few hours or actually do the hard work of slaying those hellish imps.

Davis Martin could see his nine-year old daughter peeking around the corner watching to see if this would be yet another night when her father would pass out drunk on the couch. She had no reason to believe it wouldn't, but she did still have hope and each night she hoped—and sometimes she even prayed—that her daddy wouldn't pick up the bottle. He always did, but she never stopped hoping he wouldn't.

"Audrey, honey?"

"Yes, Daddy?" he heard her say.

"Can you come here, please?"

She stepped into the room and walked over to him. It wasn't her fault, but she looked so much like her beautiful mother and every time he saw her she reminded him of her. The pretty blonde hair, the bright blue eyes, the beautiful smile. It tore his heart out and yet he could never tell her how he felt. She was innocent. She hadn't broken his heart. She hadn't walked out on him. And she deserved more than a drunk, absentee father.

She was pretty and thin but the stress of her mother's leaving had turned her ever-present smile and laughter into a straight face that made him feel even worse. He held out his hand and said, "Can you come sit down, honey?"

She sat next to him, put her hands in her lap, then looked up at her dad. "I love you so much, Odd," he said using the pet name her mother had given her.

"I love you too, Daddy," she said.

"I love you more than anything," he told her. He looked down at her then put his arm around her and pulled her close. "I even love you more than whiskey."

Audrey was still very young but still old enough to know not to get her hopes up just because her father said something. So...she sat and she waited.

"Before I met your mom, you remember what I used to do?" he asked.

"You were in the rodeo," she said. She'd only seen pictures and his trophies and buckles. She'd never actually seen him ride a bull or a bronc. She just knew he was the most handsome cowboy she'd even seen when she looked at those old photos. Her daddy was still a very handsome man and at 28, he was still in great shape.

He'd gotten his start at 14 working around the rodeo with his dad, Audrey's Grandpa Pete, and by the time he was 18, he'd won two state championships and at 19 he'd won his first national event. People who didn't follow the rodeo had no idea how much money could be won—especially in bull riding. There was big money to be made and Davis Martin had won his share of it. Between the the three championships, Davis had raked in well over $400,000, money they'd used to buy a home and put himself through culinary school, a dream he'd had since junior high. A dream he never told anyone about except for his wife.

Audrey didn't fully understand what a concussion was, but she had a general idea and she'd been told several times her father had had quite a few of them and that that's why he'd given it up. Well, that and after having married her mom right after high-school graduation, her demanaing he quit right after Audrey was born the following year.

Thanks to his very healthy winnings, her dad finished culinary school, and had been hired as an assistant chef working his way up to becoming head chef at a very upscale Dallas restaurant called The French Room. His ultimate goal was to be able to buy the place knowing it was worth well into the seven figures. He'd have to get a loan to so, and for that he'd need cash and have to mortgage his house. Even then it would be close, but he knew it could be done.

The French Room had always been a moneymaker, but since Davis became the head chef, business exploded. But soon after his wife walked out, it had been all he could do to stay on top of his game. The drinking stared almost immediately and his father had almost immediately sought out and convinced the former head chef to come back and help out his son until he worked through all of this.

"I need something in my life to help me say 'no' to that evil stuff, Odd," he said returning from his world of swirling thoughts.

"You have me, Daddy," she said holding his arm tight.

"Yes, I do, and without you, I don't know where I'd be. But...but a man needs something...something to do. Something to focus on to get his mind off of something terrible."

"Like mom leaving us?" she said quietly.

"Exactly," he said as he gave her a friendly shake.

"Being a chef isn't enough?" she asked naively but sincerely.

"I love being a chef, but I need something...else."

"What kind of something else?"

"Something...wild," he told her. "Something that focus all of your attention; something that makes your heart beat so hard you think it's gonna explode right out of your chest!"

"Like what?" she asked having no idea what he had in mind

"Like...riding a bull," he said. He gave her another shake and said, "If I can do that; if I can have something exciting to keep my mind of of what happened to us, I can give this up." He pointed to the bottle as he spoke.

Audrey sat straight up propelled by her hopes that had taken over. "Really? Are you serious, Daddy?"

"I am," he said. "Come on. You can do the honors." He stood up, handed the whiskey bottle to his daughter and said, "Let's go pour it down the drain."

They had a small step stool in the kitchen so she get reach the dishes and Davis pushed it in front of the sink so Audrey could stand over it. She unscrewed the top, looked back over her shoulder at her father and saw him smile. "Go ahead, honey. Pour it out." She turned the bottle over and watched the yellow liquid swirl after into the abyss of the black drain.

She sat the bottle down then turned around and looked at her dad. She had tears in her eyes as she said, "I love you so much, Daddy."

He grabbed her and picked her up off the stool and carried her like they were dancing. He held her hand and swirled her around the room and saw her laugh—really laugh for the first time in several months.

He sat her down and said, "I'm done drinking, and tomorrow I'm gonna get together with your Grandpa Pete and discuss my options." The next day was Saturday and Davis wanted to spend it with his dad who still had his finger on the rodeo pulse in the Dallas area. If anyone could help him get back in the game, it was Pete Martin and Davis wanted back in.

Initially, Davis kept working during the day and then took Audrey with him to his dad's ranch as he literally got back in the saddle in the evenings. He hadn't so much as ridden a horse, let alone a bull, since the nationals he'd won nine years ago. He had a lot of work to do and it couldn't all be done at once.

When he got to the point he had devote himself to his new dream full-time, he asked if his his former boss if he would mind running the place again for a couple of months or so and he'd been happy to do it. The owner didn't like it, but her husband had done the same thing to her ten years ago, and she fully understood what he was going through. She didn't understand his need to ride 2,00-pound bulls, but did she did know he needed something to get him through this difficult time. So reluctantly, she'd agreed.

He thanked her and assured her he'd be back ready to take over full-time again right after the big rodeo event the first week of July.

Davis's skills were rusty, but he made steady improvements day after day, week after week. He transitioned from mechanical bulls to the real thing shortly after taking his 'sabbatical' and even though he started off with older, less-aggressive bulls, he couldn't believe how sore he was the next few days after being bucked and tossed around like a rag doll.

"Ten years makes a lot of difference, son," he dad said. "I gotta admit though, you look pretty good out there. You gonna be ready for Mesquite?"

"Oh, yeah," he said with a smile. "Ready or not, here I come!"

The Mesquite Rode Grounds were located on well...Rodeo Drive in Mesquite, Texas, just a few miles east of Dallas and that's where Davis planned to compete on the 4th of July. With any luck, he'd not only stay off the booze, but make enough prize money to cover the lost time from work and then some. If he got really lucky, he might even win the $100,000 grand prize which meant somewhere around sixty grand after taxes.

He was old enough now to know to wear a helmet no matter what the other younger kids did. After all, he had a daughter to think about and he'd been kicked in the head one too many times to risk another concussion—or worse. This time, rodeo was a means to an end and the end was kicking booze and forgetting about his wife. If he could also make some money, then that was icing on the cake.

For now, he had to get off the sauce and move on with his life. The time would come to find someone new and as badly as Davis wanted the love of a good woman, he knew it would take time to find her and time was on his side. For now, Audrey, staying sober, and holding on for 8 seconds, were all that mattered.

July , 2016—January, 2017

Jaclyn forgot about the cowboy's business card almost as soon as she got home that day back in July. She laid it in a dish with dozens of other business cards then began decluttering her home and her life.

A week later, she was on a plane to Europe and spent four months traveling around the continent meeting and dating more than a few attractive men. She hadn't had much of a love life since college, and she thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of meeting and going home with a nice-looking man.

All of it was so incredible. The kissing, the undressing, and the glorious lovemaking! She'd forgotten just how good it felt to be loved and made love to. Of course, she understood it wasn't love, per se, but for now, it was close enough.

Of the dozen or so lucky gentlemen with whom she slept, the most interesting and unusual was a young man from Rome. She met him in a coffee shop, and he was one of the most handsome men she'd even seen. She knew he was young but when she learned he was just 25, she'd laughed out loud. "Oh, my goodness," she said out loud in English. "I'm a cradle robber!"

Antonio hadn't understood the meaning of that phrase, but he'd laughed along because Jaclyn had laughed so hard it made him laugh, too. As she lay there basking in the afterglow, she realized several things. Or rather, she'd revalidated those things. The first was that she really was still an attractive, desirable woman. The second was that sex without love was nice but meaningless. She'd needed to get this out of her system after so many years of sacrifice and denial. It had been a wonderful time, but it hadn't satisfied her deepest needs.

It was also during this trip that she remembered the handsome, young, cowboy and his beautiful daughter. The only reason she did was because on her last stop in Spain, she'd slept with a young matador who told her about his friend who had recently been gored to death in the ring as his wife sat and watched in horror. Recalling this terrible tragedy gave her pause to reflect on how close 'her' cowboy had come to meeting a similar fate that summer. She was heading back to the states in another week and made a mental note to look him up.

Unfortunately, the road to hell is paved with good intentions and she forgot about her handsome bull rider until just after New Year's Day when she was looking for a repairman to take a look at her heat pump which was acting up. As she sifted through the stack of cards, she found his and looked at it carefully: "Davis Martin, Executive Chef, The French Room located in the Adolphus Hotel on Commerce Street"

*****

For his part, Davis spent a couple of weeks recovering at home; time he enjoyed immensely because it gave him a real opportunity to reconnect with his daughter. It may well have been the happiest two weeks of his life. They did almost nothing because of the pain he still lived with, and yet they spent more time together talking or just hanging out than they had in the past several years combined.

Audrey asked him about the pretty doctor just once, and while her father remembered her he had to admit he'd really been out of it those first couple of days.

"Do you think she'll ever come to the restaurant?"

"I don't know, Odd. Maybe. Then again, she's a very beautiful woman and may be dating someone by now. And as pretty as she is, she's quite a bit older than me so even if she does, it'd just be for dinner. Oh, and she's not only a doctor, she's a surgeon so there's probably not a whole lot we have in common."

Before Audrey went back to school to start the fifth grade, her mother finally called. She talked to Audrey for a few minutes leaving her daughter in tears. All she really wanted was to tell Davis she wanted a divorce and her half of everything. Davis was sick to death of being angry and bitter, and he told her she could have both without a fight.

Before it was over, he'd had to postpone his dream of buying The French Room as the settlement wiped out most of the money they'd saved. He'd been able to avoid mortgaging the home and still had some money left in savings, but gone was the nice, thick cushion that was once there along with the dream of owning his own restaurant. But the tradeoff was more than worth it just to finally have her out of his life. He was now ready to get back to work and move on.

*****

It was a cold January evening just after New Year's and the restaurant was busy but not packed. He was in the middle of his typical frenzy of activity, coordinating numerous meals while doing much of the detailed preparation himself as he oversaw the entire kitchen.

"Chef? There's a woman here to see you," one of his staff said.

"Is it a complaint? If so, have Trudi deal with it. I don't have time."

"No, she's not complaining. She says she's here to take you up on your offer of dinner."

"My offer? Who is this woman? Is she just trying to get a free meal? What's her name?"

"Jaclyn Vincent. She said you were her 'bull-riding cowboy' she patched up at Parkland Hospital."

Davis stopped dicing and set down the knife. "Where is she?" he asked as he quickly rinsed his hands and reached for a dry towel.

"I asked her to wait in your office just in case it was legit. I hope that's okay."

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine. Thank you. I'll take care of it from here," he said. He took off his white hat as he got close to his office. He walked in and saw her look up.

"Hello, Chef!" she said with a warm smile. She stood up to hug him as he walked toward her.

"Jaclyn. Hi," he said as he accepted her hug. "Look at you! You're even more beautiful than I remember."

She stepped back and said, "I'm surprised you remember anything! We had you on the maximum-allowable dosage of morphine." She smiled again and said, "Speaking of people who look good—look at you, too! You look great, Davis. How are you feeling?"

"Never better," he told her truthfully. "Sit down, please. It's so good to see you and such a pleasant surprise."

"Thank you," she said as she sat back down. "I've tried calling for you, but you're either not here or too busy to take calls so I decided to stop by in person in the hopes of being able to finally talk to you. I know you're busy, I just wanted to drop in and say 'hi'."

"I'm so glad you did. Did you want to stay for dinner? It's still on the house and my pleasure."

"Oh, no. I'm fine tonight, but I would enjoy being able to sit down and enjoy dinner with you sometime when you're not trying to run the entire restaurant."

She smiled at him again and he felt his stomach flutter. "I forgot how beautiful you are," he said slightly restating what he'd told her earlier.

She thanked him again then asked, "Speaking of beautiful, how is that lovely daughter of yours?"

He gave her an update on the rest of the summer, his recovery, the divorce minus the ugly parts, his return to work, and the new closeness he shared with Audrey.

"She clearly loves you very much, Davis. And I could also tell she's very polite and well-mannered. That says a lot."

"Thank you, but she was still pretty upset about what her mother did to us when you met her. She refuses to even talk about it..or her...anymore."

"That makes sense," Jaclyn said. "That has to be extremely painful. How's she doing otherwise?"

"Great. She's just amazing, you know. I can't imagine how I'd have gotten through this without her. She asked about you, by the way."

"Really? That's so sweet of her. I would very much love to have her join us if you don't mind."