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God, John, they were
planning on videotaping her naked.”
    “They weren't going to put her in a
movie and they were—,” John retorted angrily. Even though he missed Cassidy in
every cell of his body he was still mad at her for blowing his cover, and he
got shot in the leg. Yes, he'd studied forgiveness since taking up religion but
actually practicing it was damn hard to do.
    “You didn't know that,” she
interrupted shifting in her seat.
    He rubbed his forehead feeling more
like the ‘take no prisoners’ cop Cassidy used to know and not the pious
preacher he was now. John leaned forward, this argument was going nowhere and
he needed to set some parameters with her. “Please don't identify me, no matter
what you see or hear at the rodeo.”
    “Don't get me involved in your
business,” Cassidy countered. “I'm not here to fight the bad guys. I just want
to ride bulls.” She folded her arms and nodded her chin firmly. Then she added,
“And build a relationship with my son.”
    John snorted, which he should not
have done. It was rude and probably a form of bullying. But he loved it when
she got firm like that and he couldn't believe he was in the middle of Oklahoma going toe to
toe with Cassidy Cooper. In his mind a wet dream come true.
    “What?” Cassidy demanded pulling
her hands off the table. “That laugh isn't very charitable of you Pastor John.”
    “Lying to me for two years wasn't
very charitable of you,” he shot back.
    Cassidy leaned forward, he could see every pore on her face. She had such clear skin. “Whatever you're
doing,” she told him. “Don't involve me and don't involve my son,” she warned. “He
seems to like you but you stay away from him.”
    “Fine,” John said. He stood picking
up his fliers.
    Kevin came back with the root beer.
“What?” Kevin moaned. “Did she bully you again?” he asked. “I was hoping we
could discuss the meaning of the Cylons monotheistic
religion in Battlestar .” Kevin held the root beer up.
“Can robots really worship God?”
    “Sorry,” John said. He glanced at
Cassidy. “I've got to go. We’ll have to discuss Battlestar another time.” He searched his brain for a reason. “Monty Harper needs a
prayer, he's still unconscious.” He fled the restaurant with the sound of
laughter in his wake. Jesus Christ, they were probably all still laughing at
him.

 
 
 
 
    Chapter Three

 
 
    “I don't think you should do this,”
Kevin said. He was standing behind the chutes with Cassidy. Tradition dictated
that the rider stay with her bull in the back pens. There were three cowgirls
ahead of her, but Cassidy’s turn was coming up quickly. “I've got a bad feeling
right here,” Kevin told her sounding a lot like Tony Soprano. Then he pointed
at his rear end.
    “Ha, ha,” Cassidy said. She rolled
her eyes. “There's nothing more special than the sense of humor of a thirteen year old.” She looked at her watch. “Especially
at eight in the morning.” That idiot Bret Bodner had moved the start time for the women up even earlier.
    “I'm serious,” Kevin objected. “You
could break your coccyx.”
    “You don't even know what a coccyx
is,” Cassidy countered, “or that it's very hard to break.” She wondered if this
misplaced concern had something to do with him being embarrassed about her bull
riding. If that was it, Kevin needed to understand his mother was a bull rider.
Bull riders fell and got hurt. Current statistics indicated it was one in every
three. Cassidy just didn't want to get injured too badly when her time came. A
cracked rib would be fine or a sprained wrist she could manage.
    “I do to know where it is,” Kevin
protested. He pointed again at his tiny hind end. Then he shook it.
    Cassidy laughed. She was getting
ready to tell the boy he had a cute butt when John Risk interrupted, another
man with a delightful derriere. But, hadn't she told John to stay away from her
and her son? In typical John Risk fashion he