Read Online The True Father by Steven Anderson Law - Free Book Online

and removed the tissue. “He won this one for qualifying for the 1994 Bud Light Cup tour.”
    Â Â  “Qualifying?”
    Â Â  “Only the top forty-five riders every year can qualify for the tour.”
    Â Â  “Top forty-five, in Oklahoma?”
    Â Â  “No, in the world.”
    Â Â  I studied the buckle again. “Wow.”
    Â Â  She stood from the bed and walked over to the shelves. She took down a photo and brought it to me. It appeared to be Jettie when he was younger, standing in front of a metal gate next to another cowboy, and a black ink autograph was scribbled across the photo.”
    Â Â  “Who's this?”
    Â Â  “That's Jettie with Don Gay, famous bull rider and old Rodeo buddy who's now a famous TV announcer.”
    Â Â  “No kidding?”
    Â Â  She grabbed another photo and brought it to me. “This is one of his favorites, with Casey Tibbs.”
    Â Â  The photo was black and white; the cowboy squatted on one knee with his arm around a little boy wearing a cowboy hat.
    Â Â  “The little boy, is that Jettie?” I asked.
    Â Â  “Cute, huh.”
    Â Â  “Who is Casey Tibbs?”
    Â Â  “Jettie's boyhood hero. He holds the world record for the most Saddle Bronc titles.”
    Â Â  This was all so interesting. A world I had never been exposed to, but the man that gave me life knew it like nothing else.
    Â Â  “Explain something to me,” I said, looking around the room. “If he was so good, why did he live this way?”
    Â Â  “For the most part, rodeo is an expensive career. Some cowboys don't break even after the travel expenses and entry fees are paid. Jettie did all right, his best year he cleared about sixty thousand.   But he put most of that back into the ranch. He cared less for material things.”
    Â Â  “Makes sense. He owned over a million dollars worth of stock and never cashed it in.”
    Â Â  This comment sparked a bit of emotion within Bella and tears filled her eyes.
    Â Â  “Are you okay?” I asked.
    Â Â  She wiped at her tears and gazed up at the pictures and trophies. “I want you to know that I knew nothing about the money.”
    Â Â  “Of course you didn't.”
    Â Â  “I wouldn't want you to think I was some kind of gold digger or something.”
    Â Â   I stood from the bed. “Jettie wanted you to have it, so apparently you deserved it.”
    Â Â  She cried harder and came to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. She laid her head against my chest and wept. I was slow to return the comfort she desired, but when I finally held her it was firm and strangely perfect.
    Â Â  “I miss him so much,” she said.
    Â Â  “I'm sure you do.”
    Â Â  She eventually let loose of me, took a deep breath and wiped her cheeks with the palms of her hands. “I'm sorry.”
    Â Â  “Don't be.”
    Â Â  “Why don't we go outside?”
    Â Â  “Sure.”
    Â Â  We walked out the back door and into the yard. Next to the door was a rusty barbecue grill and two foldable lawn chairs. We walked around to the garage and opened the double doors. The daylight exposed the tailgate of the 1971 Ford Pickup mentioned in the will. It was two toned—turquoise on bottom and white on top, with a rectangular bale of hay in the back.
    Â Â  “Well, how do we divide the truck?” I asked.
    Â Â  She laughed. “You can have that old bucket of bolts. I'll stick with my Mustang.”
    Â Â  I walked further into the garage; the dirt floor dispelled dampness and made the air smell musty. I opened the driver side door and gazed inside. The dash was cracked badly in several places and the seat was torn in the driver area, exposing the beige stuffing and iron seat springs. Before stepping inside, I instinctively looked down below the