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completely ignored her suggestion.
    “Did someone break their tail bone?”
John asked as his eyes slid to Cassidy's backside. Without waiting for an
answer he kept right on talking. “I know it hurts, maybe I can say a prayer.”
Through all his babble he continued to stare at Cassidy's posterior .
“There was a rider last week who landed on his butt and bounced into the wall.
I thought for sure he'd broken his coccyx, but you know the Good Lord was
looking out for that boy.” He clasped his hands together, but instead of
tipping his chin up he kept his eyes on Cassidy. “That young man pulled himself
off the ground and walked away. Bless his soul.”
    Kevin tugged on Cassidy's sleeve. “Coccyx,”
he whispered. “See everyone knows what it is, even the weirdo preacher.” He
shook his head and rolled his eyes.
    “Then there was this bull rider who—”
John started again oblivious to Kevin and Cassidy talking about him. While John
pontificated Cassidy moved away. The man didn't need to keep looking at her
like that. It wasn't appropriate, especially around the small audience of bull
owners, riders, and groupies that was rapidly forming. Everyone liked a good wreck
story even at eight o'clock in the morning.
    Still hanging tight to Cassidy,
Kevin tugged on her sleeve again while grimacing in embarrassment. After a
quick assessment of the situation Cassidy realized he wasn't upset at her. It
was John and his story. “Can I tell him to go away?” Kevin asked.
    Cassidy nodded.
    “Do you always talk so much?” the
boy interrupted the minister sounding a lot like Caleb when he was carrying a
grudge.
    John blinked a few times. “What?”
    “All this religious stuff,” Kevin
pointed out. “It's really weird behind the chutes at a rodeo attended by less
than twenty people.” He gestured toward the bulls surrounding them. “There's
more animals here than humans.” He folded his arms over his chest mimicking a favorite pose of Logan's.
    Yes, Cassidy most definitely had
left the boy alone for too long with her brothers. She did it because John
needed her and she believed she was fighting the good fight, saving women and
children from drugs, guns, and abuse. Now, she wasn’t so sure because she was beginning
to realize her son needed her too, maybe even more.
    “I'm a spiritual man,” John said
pulling at the corners of his collar with righteousness. He looked
uncomfortable, awkward, and just plain silly.
    Cassidy had to look away. It was
just too painful to not laugh. She didn't know who at the Bureau of Alcohol,
Tobacco, and Firearms assigned John this job, but it wasn't a match for him. On
the other hand, she was finding his ineptitude and awkwardness attractive in a Big
Bang Theory sort of way. The righteousness she could do without.
    A few minutes later a rider, named
Maggie Taylor, entered the ring on a bull called Butter Cup. She was one bull
ahead of Cassidy. It was time for Cassidy to forget about John Risk and get her
head in the game. Her bull, Crosshairs, was moved to the waiting chute.
    Oh gosh, he was big. Cassidy
probably shouldn't have spoken of broken bones with Kevin because now she was
sure she’d break a few. Yes, she was superstitious and really hoped the gold
dollar she carried in her front pocket, which her father had given her when she
was seven, would protect her.
    “Remember, keep the wind at your
back,” John said placing his hand on her shoulder. He had finally stopped
preaching but hadn’t left. He was so close to Cassidy she felt his breath move
the hair around her chin. Ignoring his proximity, she tried to find comfort in
the Irish blessing. She glanced at his wrist. Like her gold coin, his talisman
was a leather band his father had given him when he was five. It reassured her
too.
    “Keep the sun on your face,”
Cassidy replied holding onto the fence. They'd said those same words to each
other many times in the past before going into dangerous situations. Without
warning their