Comeback Trail

Just as Logan gets his love life back on track, an unwanted
admirer worms her way into his life and throws a wrench into his plans.

Can Jack's new deputy status in the sheriff's
office help his brothers out?

With the rodeo only a couple of weeks away, can Logan
get into top form fast enough to compete with the best?

Monday, May 18th.
McKenna Ranch.

THE Texas sun is beating down hard on the roofers this morning as they put the finishing touches on shingling the roof of the new McKenna bull breeding barn. 

I’m sitting on the porch with my brothers, Clay and Jack, drinking coffee and staring at our beautiful new barn paid for by fire insurance money we didn’t know we had.

A few weeks ago, we were devastated by a chain of events that left us hurt, wounded, depressed and almost ready to give up. But a month later after a lot of frustration and perseverance, a little bit of light is shining at the end of the tunnel.

Luckily Daddy had kept up with all our bills before he passed on, and even though, Jacky, Clay and I thought we were broke and headed for the poorhouse, that wasn’t the case. 

Daddy shocked the shit out of us and left us in good shape at the bank. Now we’ve got a foothold in the business of bull breeding and with a little help from some kind and intelligent people, we’re learning as we go. Hands on. 

With Daddy’s three bulls—Crusher, Thor and Presto—who retired from the PBR with the distinction of never being ridden—all we have to do is produce some healthy young bulls and we’ll be able to make a name for ourselves in the rodeo world.

I finished my coffee, set the mug down on the step and stood up. “Better get Bowie saddled and get back to the pasture field,” I said to my brothers. “I’ll never make a comeback sitting on the porch on my ass.”

Jacky grinned. At twenty-four he was the youngest of the three of us. Clay was twenty-seven and I was over the hill at thirty-one. I’d quit the rodeo over a year before when things were going badly in my life, but with the encouragement of my two brothers and Linda Loudon, a champion barrel racer that I happened to be in love with, I was trying for a comeback.

“See you in a couple of hours, Logy,” said Clay. “I’ve got therapy on my shoulder at eleven, but Jacky can take me to the hospital if you’re not finished your workout.”

“I’ll finish up at ten-thirty and drive you, Clay. Last time when you finished your therapy, your arm was too sore to drive home.”

“I remember. My therapist is a bully.”

“We should all go to Preston,” said Jack. “I have to talk to Sheriff Tucker while Clay has his therapy, then we could all go to the Spur for lunch and a drink a cold one before we come home.”

My brothers would make up any excuse to drop by the Broken Spur roadhouse for a pitcher of beer. It had been Daddy’s hangout of choice and we hung there with him most of the time. Right up until the day he died.

One of the reasons Daddy was always there, was the lady who ran the roadhouse, Miss Janey O’Brien. Daddy was in love with Miss Jane and the feeling was mutual. She was like our second Momma.

I strode over to the corral, picked up my saddle and got Bowie ready to go for a couple of hours of practice. I’d been giving lessons to a couple of younger guys who were keen to compete in steer roping and tie-down, and they were coming along real well. They were entered into a couple of the rodeos coming up shortly and we all intended to go and cheer them on.