Storms Rock Prologue and Chapter One
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Acey
My name is Acey Rose Jones. Mom hadn't filled out my name for the hospital, which was supposed to have been Millie Rose Jones. Unfortunately when dad gave them my name it was after a couple hours of boozy celebrating. Millie just went out of his head and Acey flew in. She was a girl dad knew well in his rodeo days—she was popular at the time.
My friends and everyone at school called me Ace. My dad called me Acey. My mom, never having forgiven dad and making sure he knew it, always called me Millie, or when I was in trouble, Millie Rose. When I started competing in rodeo after high school, dad convinced me that calling myself Ace might not sit well with the other competitors, so I started using Acey. Somehow I never got confused, and was comfortable with it.
I was the only girl with three older brothers, so mom wanted me to be her little girl. Much to her disgust and dad's delight, I turned out to be a hard-core tomboy. We lived on a ranch outside Amarillo, and from the time I was six I had my own horse. I worked on the ranch right along with dad, my brothers and the different hands that worked there over the years. In high-school, I couldn't care less about being a cheerleader, or going to the prom, but becoming one of the top school rodeo competitors in the state really excited me.
I was planning on going to college locally at West Texas A&M, but I was bummed 'cause they don't have a rodeo team. My folks did okay, but not enough to send me away to school. Then one day I came home from school, and mom was waiting for me with a grin, and something held behind her back.''
"Momma, whatcha hidin' there?" I said as I tried to reach around and grab it.
She smiled, and replied, "Nuthin', Girl, only this scholarship from University of Wyoming, in Laramie."
I opened the flap and pulled the papers out. I looked them over, and then glanced back at mom. "This is real nice, Momma, but this is for tuition and books. You know we can't afford this.
"Millie, honey, your uncle Gene is paying for everything else. You knew he made all that money on somethin' to do with computers and automation or some such. He says he'll pay any of it not paid by the school. He even said you can stay with him weekends or whatever, and he'll pay you any work you do. Summer too, he says."
I looked at the papers and saw I'd be competing in barrel racing, breakaway roping, and goat tying. It was exciting and I gave my mom a big hug.
"There'll be a bit more," my mom said," My brother, Gene, says you can come up and work this summer, so you'll have some spending money. You think on it some, and we'll all talk it over."
Wow! This was neat. My specialty was barrel racing. I done a lot of the other two but in that I knew I was as good as anyone. I had several horses I used, and always competed with the one that seemed the sharpest at the time. Gene said he would send one of his hands to bring them up to Wyoming. The women's team just had these three events and only four team members, so it should be a great experience. They competed both fall and spring, but the season was short so competing in Rodeo shouldn't hurt my studies.
I had no idea what I wanted to do so I figured I'd take general courses the first year and get as much required stuff out of the way as I could. I was excited as I packed, looking forward to a new life but not really having any idea of what to expect. Mom took me to the airport, where my excitement level dropped fast. I was flying from Amarillo to Houston, to Oklahoma City, to Denver, and finally on to Laramie. It's just a bit over seven hundred miles to Casper, so I'd take a full day to travel what should be about two hours.
Uncle Gene was there to pick me up. He'd been to Amarillo around Thanksgiving last year for a quick visit. He'd been in Dallas on business and stopped by on his way home, so I recognized him right away. He was there with his twin daughters, Terry Ann and Merry May. They were identical twins, but they each had always wanted their own look, so they went by Ann and May. Their dress was completely different, and Ann wore her hair long and May had it cut fairly short. They were one year older than me, and had just finished their first year at the University.
In the car, Ann told me, "We drive back and forth with no problem. They keep the roads clear of snow—or if they don't the school closes anyway. We really like the school."
"That sounds great! It looks like fun."
We chatted about the school, their boyfriends ... and generally got caught up since we hadn't seen each other for almost four years. Before I knew it we pulled into the ranch. There were a lot of buildings, barns, sheds, corrals, and a pretty log cabin on a small hill that turned out to be much bigger than it looked.
"Wow, Uncle Gene, This is huge. How big is your ranch?"
"Oh, about several thousand acres. I keep adding to it once in a while, especially if I can pick up additional water rights."
"Wow, that's big."
He laughed, "Well, not so big. Its small compared to some of ranches in Wyoming. Our neighbor to the north has over seven thousand acres."
I settled in quicker than I thought. Gene didn't exactly rent out any of the four cabins he had in a shaded grove of large cottonwoods, but it seemed like he always had company. My job was to be a wrangler for them, keep the horses they would ride, and go with them whenever needed, especially if they had kids.
I'd always hunted with my dad and my uncle wanted me to help out on that also. Sometimes he would go and other times I'd take them by myself. Most of this was in the fall—I didn't have classes on Fridays, so I could always be available on weekends; I'd drive home in the two-year-old F-150 that Gene had given me to use. Mostly we hunted on the property, but sometimes went elsewhere depending on what game was in season.
During the rodeo season we competed in the Central Rocky Mountain Region of the National Intercollegiate Rodeo Association. The teams in our region were from schools such as Chadron State, Gillette College, Lamar Community College and Colorado State University in Fort Collins.
There was both a fall and spring schedule that essentially cycled around with each of the eleven schools hosting a competition. Sometimes all schools would show up, but it was common for several to miss any one weekend. I was doing performing at a higher level than they expected of me, and I knew I was better than most I would encounter in college. Mostly I'd win in barrel racing and at least show in my other events.
There were five weekends in the fall, in September and October, and five in the spring, in late March and in April, so it wasn't a major burden on either my class work or helping my uncle out at the ranch. It was during the fourth weekend of competition, this at Lamar CC, that I slept with my first man. I wish! He turned out to be a fumbling nineteen year old from Lamar who invited me over because his folks were out of town.
It started out kinda fun. I couldn't drink anything because we had bed check at midnight and if the coach smelled alcohol you were off the team. The boy's name was Jeremy, and he had the petting part down cold. But it turned out it was his first time too, and after he got me so hot and literally bothered, the rest was just a fumbling let down. I guess he technically did the job, but it was nothing I would look forward to doing for a long time. All in all I was majorly disappointed. Maybe I needed a man... not a boy.
In mid-September, Uncle Gene had a guy come visit. He was some writer and wanted to look the ranch over and see what Wyoming was like. He was cute for an older man ... he must have been all of thirty. I overheard my cousins, Ann and May, saying what a cute tush he had. I agreed, and gave him a close look. He was in good shape, tall, dark hair and eyes, kind of rugged good looks. His name was Terry Fisher and he was to have a major role in my life—I just didn't realize it at the time.
Dad introduced his girls and me at the same time, but it evolved to me to do most of the stuff to take him for rides and show him the ranch. Gene would take him to other ranchers and to several historians. I had to give him credit—he was at home on a horse. He had a nice easy style, and seemed completely at home.
The next morning after we met, I took him out for the first time. It was fairly early on a Saturday morning, ground still wet with dew. His hair was tousled; I guess he figured why brush it out when he was putting on a new Stetson he'd bought. He still had bedroom eyes on when I met him for coffee early on Saturday. He was kind of cute ... I guess.
I packed a brunch to eat on the ride. It was a warm morning after the sun had been out a bit. I took him to the high point on the ranch, a twisty mile through a heavy growth of pines. The top of the hill was clear with a great view. I had a thermos of coffee and some bacon and egg sandwiches.
"I envy you, living here."
"Well, I'm not sure if I live here or in Amarillo, but I agree this is beautiful country. Where do you live?"
"Oh, in the wine country, out in Northern California. It's a lovely area, but doesn't have the sheer majesty that Wyoming has."
I laughed, and replied, "Well, you're probably right, but I'd trade the weather there for either that of Texas or Wyoming. "You married, Terry?"
He looked startled, then sad ... and finally shook his head and answered, "No, I guess not."
I thought that was a strange answer, but I didn't pursue it. It was funny, 'cause when I asked him he was nervously twisting what looked like a marriage ring around on his finger. Oh, well. Not my problem.
We ate the sandwiches and then I led him on a roundabout course back to the ranch house. That night I sat next to him at dinner and got to know him a bit.
The next weekend I had my first rodeo competition, so I didn't see him again for several weeks. I was swamped with the competitions and school, and it wasn't until the fall rodeo season ended just before Thanksgiving that Terry came out to visit. May told me about his wife dying, so I could understand he was having a hard time. On the Friday and Saturday after Thanksgiving my job would be to take him around to look at ranches. It seemed he was interested in moving to Wyoming. It sounded to me like he was running away or trying to hide from life. I tried to imagine having something like that happen to me, but I guess I was too young to really understand.
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