The True Father by Steven Anderson Law Page B

near him gripping a joystick.
    Â Â  Instantly, the bull started spinning while simultaneously the back end rose up and down. Boyd's free arm swayed with the jerking motions and after several seconds a horn sounded, the bull slowed and the crowd cheered.
    Â Â  As the bull stopped, Boyd jumped off and flashed his big teeth at his admirers. Eventually, his gaze found Bella, and along with his trademark smile he nodded at her.
    Â Â  “Very impressive,” I said.
    Â Â  “Hardly,” Bella said.
    Â Â  “Why?”
    Â Â  “If he did that on a real bull then he'd earn my respect.”
    Â Â  “Why don't he—ride a real bull, that is?”
    Â Â  “Oh he tries. But like I said, a real bull is much different. And besides that, Boyd is a dipshit.”
    Â Â  I laughed and instantly realized where she was coming from. A new song started on the jukebox, Amarillo by Morning by George Strait. Bella looked into my eyes for a short moment then smiled. “Do you like to dance?”
    Â Â  I looked out into the crowd of people. “Here?”
    Â Â  She gazed out into the crowd as well. “Sure, why not?”
    Â Â  “Whatever you say.”
    Â Â  She grabbed my hand and led me to a clear area not far from the jukebox, which was covered with imitation woodgrain tiles. She put her hands around my neck and I held mine around her waist. I gazed back at the seated crowd, but no one seemed to pay any mind to us dancing alone, except Boyd, who gazed at me with a contemptuous half-grin as he walked toward the pool table. So I tried to loosen up and let Bella lead. The song wasn't entirely slow, but it was peaceful enough to catch a comfortable rhythm. 
    Â Â  “This was one of Jettie's favorite songs,” she said. 
    Â Â  I listened to the words and quickly understood that it was about rodeo life. “I guess that makes sense.”
    Â Â  “He loved George Strait. Bought every piece of music he ever recorded.”
    Â Â  “So Jettie liked music?”
    Â Â  “Sort of. But he didn't care much for the new pop stuff. He liked guys like Keith Whitley, Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, and he liked cowboy music from guys like Chris LaDoux Michael Martin Murphy, and Ghost Town Council. Stuff with soul.”
    Â Â  “Cool.”
    Â Â  “Jettie wasn't a follower. He liked what he liked and that was it.”
    Â Â  “That's very admirable.”
    Â Â  She leaned back and looked into my eyes. “I'm sure you would have liked him.”
    Â Â  “Yeah, well my mom thought differently.”
    Â Â  “I didn't know him then, of course, so I can't help you there.”
    Â Â  “Yeah, I know. I guess that's why I'm going to have to meet some more people.”
    Â Â  “You know I'll help all I can?”
    Â Â  Her eyes seemed soft and compassionate, and like the last time I held her, I was feeling a sense of belonging. I tried to return the same compassion with my own smile, though unsure how successful I would be. “I know you will.”
    Â Â  Suddenly the song changed again and now the jukebox played Ain't Goin' Down (Till The Sun Comes Up) by Garth Brooks, and other couples began to join us on the dance floor.
    Â Â  She let loose of my waist and grabbed my hands and looked at me with a beguiling stare. “So now do you really want to dance?”
    Â Â  “Do I have a choice?”
    Â Â  She grinned and shook her head, then took my hand, raised my arm and twirled around underneath. At first I felt novice and awkward, but decided to let her lead the way, and before long dancing with   Bella seemed amazingly simple. So simple that it became second nature, as did the number of beers that kept us going the rest of the night.

Fourteen

    Â Â 
   I knew Jeremiah would be surprised to see me, but from the way he jerked his head and