A/N: Hey everyone! I'm trying to get caught back up. Thanks again for the reviews. I enjoy the messages that you send almost as much as reading some of your stories. They make me smile, so feel free to keep writing.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Dukes, and no infringements intended.
POT SHOTS
CHAPTER 13
HOLD THE ONIONS
The rodeo was in town, and Daisy couldn't have been more excited. One of her friends from school had joined up after they graduated, and this was the first time she'd been back since she left. Hazzard was rolling out the red carpet, welcoming home one of their own. Daisy couldn't wait to see her again, and joked that it would have been real nice if they could have scheduled it a couple of weeks later so that it would have coincided with the Annual Hazzard Homecoming. Uncle Jesse told her that coming home had nothing to do with a date on a calendar, and Daisy agreed that he was right. She asked her family if they wanted to go to see their friend perform, and to everyone's surprise, even Bo agreed .
It would be his first real public outing. His family thought that he might not want to be seen wearing the braces, but ever since Luke had taken him to get a haircut, Bo didn't seem half as worried or anxious about his appearance. The scar on his head was no longer visible, and it seemed that some of the scars no one could see were fading a little, too. He didn't know it, but Sandy had already ordered his crutches, and this excursion was about to complete his final phase of therapy. In a way, it was like his final exam, and if he passed, they'd both be graduating.
Heralding from the Lone Star state, they assumed that Sandy probably loved the rodeo. She agreed to go, but surprised them all when she said that she never had been a real big fan.
"How can you be from Texas and not like the rodeo?" Luke asked her. "Isn't that like a religion down there?"
Sandy shrugged. "It's big, I just don't like it. I think it's cruel what they do to the animals."
"Don't they do the same things in day to day ranching?" Uncle Jesse asked, scratching his head.
"Yeah, they do, but there's a big difference between sport and necessity. Lassoing a calf to stop him from running off is one thing. Seeing how fast you can hog tie the little critter for no good reason is overkill."
The Dukes looked at each other and shrugged. A Texas Rancher who was also an animal rights' activist was rather a strange combination, but then twisters never were predictable.
The Dukes and Sandy headed out early the morning of the big event. Daisy had already talked to her friend several times in the past two days, but had not yet seen her. She knew she'd be busy later in the day and wanted to spend a few minutes with her. The girl was going to stay a couple extra days in her hometown, catching up with Daisy and her folks, but the female Duke was still anxious.
Daisy took Uncle Jesse and Luke in Dixie and Bo rode with Sandy in the Camaro. Sandy loved how happy Bo always looked whenever he was riding with her. His hair blowing in the wind and the smile on his face was gratifying when she thought about the condition he'd been in when they'd first met. It was also sexy as hell, but she couldn't tell him that.
Bo looked so happy riding with Sandy because it made him happy. He loved the sports car and it's driver, and he loved the fact that Sandy was the only one that didn't drive twenty in a fifty-five mile an hour zone just because he was in the car. Riding shotgun in Sandy's car made Bo feel like he was flying, the way he used to feel in the General. He wondered how long it would be before he'd be able to get in and out of the car that he and Luke both loved, and when he could, if Luke would ever let him jump anything again. It wasn't possible to jump a pot hole if you couldn't drive any faster than you could walk.
Though they were early, they were surprised to see that there were already quite a few people there. Wandering around the grounds, Daisy asked where she could find her friend. There was a flurry of activity going on with cowboys, clowns, and hands tending to morning duties and trying to make sure that everything would be ready. Sandy Maverick looked like she was part of the show. Dressed in identical attire of boots, denim, and belt buckle, she was dressed the same way she had been the first day they had met her. Throughout the weeks, she had worn shorts and other tops, but the tucked in shirt with the tight jeans was her favorite. Bo, Luke, and Daisy were wearing similar outfits, but the object that set Sandy apart from them was the cowboy hat. Except when she was in her car, they'd only gotten brief glimpses. With her long auburn hair, the Stetson looked like a crown, and Bo had never known that a hat could be so sexy. People often mistakenly believed that southerners all wore hats, they didn't, and those who did, like Uncle Jesse, rarely wore a cowboy hat. That was something more unique to areas considered to be the 'Old West,' especially Texas and Oklahoma, but the entire south had a tendency to be lumped together. Anyone who knew better knew that there were big differences between being southern and being Texan, the hat was only one of the more visible signs.
Daisy finally found her friend, Betty Jean. When they were finished hugging, she pointed out the rest of her family. Betty Jean greeted each one of them, but paused when she saw Bo, obviously surprised to see him leaning forward on his arm braces. Her reaction was the last thing Bo needed right then. Sandy didn't want it to destroy the confidence he had built up. Careful not to knock him off his balance, she slid her left arm around his waist and moved very close. The movement didn't go unnoticed by the spectators. Daisy and Luke grinned at each other, Betty Jean's eyes darted to Sandy, traveling up and down her the same way they had done to Bo. Sandy was perfectly healthy and it unnerved her.
"Betty Jean, this is Sandy Maverick, she's Bo's..."
"Friend," Sandy finished for Daisy, not believing that this girl needed to know anymore She hoped it would help Bo's self-esteem, and wanted to show Betty Jean that brace or no brace, Bo was still a man, and a very attractive one at that. "Very good friend," she added, as she stuck out her right hand.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Bo watching her, grinning from ear to ear. When she stepped back after the handshake, he kissed her temple.
"Are you from the Texas Mavericks?" Betty Jean asked, surprising all of them. The Dukes surmised that her family's name must have been a little more important than she had let on. Figuring out she was from Texas had been the easy part. Each area of the south had its own unique accent, and while people from other parts of the country couldn't differentiate between them, people from the south could hear them as plain as if English wasn't even being spoken. The Texas accent was the most widely recognized.
"Yes, I am," she answered, and Betty Jean's eyebrows raised in wonderment.
Everyone except Sandy chatted with Betty Jean about her life as a rodeo star, and what it was like being away from Hazzard. Sandy didn't like her, so she hadn't been paying much attention. A one-sided conversation was taking place somewhere around her, and she found that much more interesting than listening to Betty Jean talk about herself. She softly slipped her arm away from Bo, and inched away, trying to find the person doing the talking.
A few stalls down, she located the frustrated voice. A young girl, probably the daughter of one of the rodeo people, was trying to give a bottle to a small calf, and having absolutely no luck. "C'mon you stubborn cuss. You gotta drink this," she scolded the obstinate animal as it turned its head from side to side avoiding the nipple being offered.
Sandy leaned against the stall entrance. "Well, I wouldn't cooperate with you, either, if you talked to me like that," she told the girl.
"Huh?" she said, looking up. "Oh yeah right. It's just a dumb calf, so dumb that it's gonna starve to death."
"It loose its mama?" Sandy asked.
"Yeah, a week ago, and we still can't get it to eat! Dumb-dumb," she said.
"Ya know, animals aren't as dumb as we think they are. They may not have the same kind of smarts as we do, but they've got real good instincts, and they know when someone likes them or not. Do you like to be around people that you know don't like you?" Sandy asked the exasperated girl.
"No."
"Well they don't like to be around people that don't like them, either. She can sense that you don't like her, and as far as she knows, you might be trying to poison her."
"Yeah right," the girl snorted.
"How do you know what she's thinking? She told you lately?"
"Who are you?"
"My name's Sandy," she replied, walking into the stall, and sitting down next to the girl and the calf. Petting the baby, she took it away from the girl and put it in her own lap. "What's yours?"
"Jill."
"How long you been working with the animals?" Sandy inquired, continuing to rub the calf's back, who was no longer squealing in protest.
"Not too long."
"You got a lot to learn," Sandy told her, reaching for the bottle. "First of all, this little baby is scared of you, especially when she can sense that you don't like her. You've got to let them get used to you, and try and convince them that you are their friend not their foe. Second of all, she don't have a clue as to what you are trying to do to her. All she knows is that you're shoving something in her face, and she don't know if it's good for her or not. Now, how would you feel if someone was doing that to you?"
"I wouldn't like it."
"Well, this little baby don't either." Reaching for the bottle, she continued to pet the calf, who had now settled down and was resting peacefully against Sandy Maverick. "You've got to show her what it is," Sandy told her as she demonstrated by rubbing the bottle over the cow's mouth, who was no longer turning away from the same bottle. After a few drops of the milk reached its lips, the calf figured out that it was food and accepted it, greedily gulping. "See," she said, to a very surprised teenage girl.
"I don't believe it."
"Here, now you try it," Sandy coaxed, taking the bottle out of the calf's mouth, which was now protesting its absence. She moved the baby to the girls' lap, and handed her the bottle. This time, she had no trouble getting the calf to take it.
"She's drinking from me!"
"She will from now on, too, cause now she knows what it is, but the first time, you gotta lead them to water, and show em how to drink."
"How'd you learn how to do that?"
"I grew up on a ranch with more animals than people. They're a lot smarter than we give them credit for, and even if they're not as smart as us, that's never a reason to be mean or cruel to them. Just remember, if you wouldn't like someone doing something to you, chances are they don't like someone doing it to them."
Sandy got up and brushed the hay off the back of her butt. She hadn't realized that she and the girl weren't alone anymore. The Duke men had come in search of her, giving Daisy and her friend a few minutes alone. How long they'd been standing there, she didn't know. "Howdy!" she said. "Waiting on me?"
Before they could answer, Daisy joined the party. "Hey guys! Guess what? Betty Jean invited us to go riding tomorrow, and I told her I'd pack a picnic. We can make a day of it, doesn't that sound great?"
Sandy held her breath, wondering what Bo's answer would be. He couldn't ride, and she didn't know if he would still be comfortable around Betty Jean's watchful eyes. To her surprise, he didn't refuse, but he asked if she was invited, too.
"Well, of course, sugar," Daisy replied. "That is, as long as she wants to."
Bo turned on his puppy dog eyes that couldn't be denied. "Sure," she accepted, glad that Bo didn't seem bothered enough by Betty Jean's earlier scrutiny to stay home, and flattered that his answer was dependent on hers. "Gotta keep my eye on Bo here, especially around that little filly," she said jokingly.
"Gotta keep my eyes...on you, too," Bo grinned.
"That shouldn't be hard," Luke commented while rolling his.
They were way too early to go up into the stands. There were still a couple of hours before even the pre-show entertainment started. Bo announced that he was hungry and wanted a hot dog.
"C'mon, Beauregard, I'll buy you one," Sandy said, not even thinking about calling him by the name he hated until he stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh, sorry," she apologized, hoping that she hadn't upset him. The fact was, she liked the name, a lot.
Bo looked down at her, but couldn't be mad if he wanted. He believed that it had been spontaneous, not meant in a bad way, and somehow when she said it, it sounded like a term of endearment. "You'll have to buy me...two hot dogs to make up...for it."
"You got it," she agreed, glad that he wasn't offended.
Luke and Daisy got in line at the concession stand while Sandy and Uncle Jesse helped Bo get situated at a table that wasn't the easiest piece of furniture to maneuver. As they were coming back with their order, Sandy walked up to the window.
"What do you want on em?" she yelled over to Bo.
"You," he yelled back. Rolling her eyes, she looked at him to find him laughing and wiggling his eyebrows. "Everything."
"Ketchup, mustard, onions, and relish?"
"Yeah!" he shouted, then changed his mind. "No wait...hold the onions."
Now it was Sandy's turn to give him a playful look, which he replied to by giving her an innocent one.
Walking back to the table with three dogs and two drinks, she heard someone calling her name. Of course, she knew she wasn't the only Sandy in the world, but she started looking around and so did the rest of the Duke family. She didn't see anything, so she finished walking over to Bo, setting the dogs down in front of him. She was just about to swing her second leg over the bench and sit down, when she heard an unmistakable, "Sandy Maverick!" That left little doubt that someone was calling her. She looked around again, and this time she saw a man jogging toward her, waving his cowboy hat.
"Tracey!" she shrieked, pulling her leg out from under the table, and running to meet him. He opened his arms and she threw hers around his neck as he picked her up and twirled her around.
"Well, if it isn't the Texas Twister herself," the man observed.
Bo's appetite suddenly vanished. He'd come down with a sudden case of the green eyed bug, again. Unlike Billy Ray, Sandy obviously liked this guy. He watched them together, wondering if he'd ever be able to pick her up and twirl her around like that, and even if he could, if she'd let him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked the man after he put her back down on the ground.
"Playing."
"You're kidding! That's great," she said as they started walking back to the table, arms around each other.
"Yeah, I was wondering if I might run into you, but I really didn't expect to. I heard you were working, and it looks like real hard. Besides, I know how much you love the rodeo!"
"I have been working real hard," she professed, punching him in the arm. "Unlike some people I know. How'd you know I was here, anyway?"
They looked at each other, and replied in unison, "Timmy!"
"You talked to him lately, darlin?" the man asked.
"Yeah, last night. He didn't say anything about you," After a slight pause, she continued, "Oh boy, he hasn't said anything about this. How's he doing? Really?"
"He wanted to come along."
"Yeah, I have no doubt. Dang it, ya know, he's just gonna have to forget about what our daddy wanted him to do, and follow his heart. This has got to be killing him," Sandy analyzed.
"Well, maybe you can talk to him. He won't listen to us."
"He won't listen to me neither, least not about this," she said. "Hey! I want you to meet some folks!" Sandy grabbed hold of Tracey's hand as she dragged him the rest of the way back to the table. She introduced him, then introduced each of the Dukes. "Tracey is my brother, Timmy's, best friend," she told them.
"What? We're not friends?" Tracey asked her, pretending to be hurt.
"Well of course we are. The three of us been friends since we was knee-high to a grasshopper. We sure got into a lot trouble together when we were little," she said.
"When we were big, too," he reminded her.
"Yeah," she whispered, smiling at some misplaced memory.
"Well, I gotta get back. We got a lot to do before the show, and the guys will be accusing me of not doing my fair share. It was nice to meet ya'll," he said, tipping his hat, "ma'am," he said to Daisy. "Why don't you come find me after the show? The guys would love to see ya."
"I'll try, but no promises." she told him.
Sandy's possible rendezvous later did nothing except fuel Bo's jealousy. It reminded him that she had a life that didn't include him, and he didn't like that one little bit. Instead of the fun loving boy that had showed up, he became quiet as a church mouse.
Bo's silence was deafening, and Sandy was more than a little worried about him. She hoped that they hadn't overdone it, taking him out for so long his first time. She went back into therapist mode. "You ok, Bo?" she asked, checking to see if he had a fever. He didn't.
"Yeah," he told her.
"You sure? Are you tired?"
"No."
"You're awfully quiet. Are you sure there's nothing wrong?"
"Positive," he said, and it was clear that whatever it was, and she was sure it was something, he didn't want to talk about it.
The only other thing she could guess that was responsible for his mood swing was Betty Jean's behavior earlier that day. She cursed the girl under her breath, completely unaware that she was the culprit.
Bo couldn't climb the bleachers, but thanks to the generosity of friends and strangers alike, the Duke party was offered seats in the front row. Sandy watched most of the events, but excused herself prior to the start of the calf tying exhibition. Betty Jean wasn't entered in that competition. She had already competed in a couple of events, but hadn't won either of them. Sandy seemed to have impeccable timing, strolling back just as the last calf was being carried off. Bo saw her in the distance, a scowl on her face. He couldn't help but give a little chuckle at the look of disgust. His heart swelled, thinking back at how good she'd been with that poor little calf that morning, kind and gentle, just like she'd always been with him. Animal or human, it just wasn't in her nature to hurt anything or anyone.
When she sat back down, he looked at her. "You ok?" he was now asking her.
"Fine," she said, smiling up at him. "Long line," she fibbed.
"Uh-huh," he mocked as he slipped his arm around her, happy that she seemed content to leave it there.
The rodeo was over, and that meant it was time for the live entertainment. The fairgrounds managed to book a big name headliner, and Tracey's band was the opening act. As they walked out on stage, Tracey saw her and started waving, and she waved back. The other band members looked to see who he was waving at, and soon joined in. Tracey must not have told them that she was around because they seemed genuinely surprised to see her. Signaling and motioning with their hands and eyes, they were having a conversation amongst themselves that no one else understood. It was easy to see that they knew each other very well.
Most all of their music they wrote themselves, but they had to play songs that the audience recognized or they would have lost people's interest very quickly. The first song they played was very fast, and the entire audience was swaying back and forth and keeping rhythm with some parts of their bodies. The next song they slowed down. Bo's arm was still around Sandy, and in an unplanned move, she laid her head on his shoulder. Bo was happy to loan it out to her, scooting closer to act as a pillow and tightening his grip. He looked down and saw that she had her eyes closed. He wondered if she was just enjoying the music, thinking, or tired. In all the time he'd known her, he'd never known her to be really tired. He wondered what it would take to make her so, since he hadn't seemed to wear her out just yet. Then he wondered if he had. No one knew whether or not she collapsed at night when she was alone in her room.
"You tired?" he asked.
"Little."
"You ok?"
"Yeah, you?"
"Fine darlin," he assured her.
She smiled, but didn't open her eyes.
"They're good," he commented, referring to the band.
"Yes, they are," she agreed. "My brother should be up there with them right now."
"Well, if anyone can convince him,...I would think it would be you."
"I've tried. I just don't get it. That's his band, him and Tracey's. They started it when they were kids. Music's what he loves and God knows he's good. I guess I understood it a little more when daddy was alive, but I don't get it now. Mama might not be thrilled, but she always wanted us to be happy, and he's not. She'd come around, but it's like he's trying to please a ghost."
"Ghosts can be scary," Bo told her.
"Yeah, I guess," she said, laughing a little, and opening her eyes to find Bo staring down at her. He touched her face, slowly bending down as their lips grew closer. Sandy was mesmerized. She felt like she was watching it happen to someone else. She knew what was coming. She knew that as a professional, she shouldn't let it. She should stop it, the voice in her head told her, but she was powerless. Before it happened, they were interrupted by the man with the microphone.
"Hey folks! I gotta a special treat for ya'll tonight. A friend of ours has been here in your fair little town for some time now, and I bet if we give her a big hand, we can get her to come on up." The audience started clapping, though they didn't really know what they were clapping for. "Come on Sandy, get yur butt up here before I go down there and get you!"
"Like you could try," she yelled back, cursing his timing while the voice laughed at her.
She didn't want to go, but the audience was persuasive. Giving in, she walked up to the stage, and Tracey leaned over and gave her a hand up. Saying hello to everyone, she was presented with a shiny, red electric guitar. She threw the strap over her shoulder, and checked out the strings. After exchanging words, they gave a count and Sandy started the intro instrumental. She was a little better guitar player than she had let on.
No one recognized the song, it was an original one of them had written. The fact that she knew it said that she played with them from time to time. It was catchy and everyone was soon clapping in time. Luke looked at Bo, and they both gave their nod of approval. Tracey was singing the verse, and he and Sandy were standing close together jamming on the guitar. They sang the chorus together, and of course, it had to be about the Lone Star State. It seemed virtually impossible to hail from Texas as a singer or musician, and not sing about it. Now they were telling people that 'God Loved Texas Best.'
Sandy seemed to be having a good time, and the crowd was responding to her the way that all living things seemed to. Bo noticed a lot of hootin and hollering taking place from the men. He tried to forget about it, knowing that he probably had more to worry about from the man she was on stage with. Before he could really think about anything else, they finished the song, and it was his duty to let her know that he enjoyed it by clapping as long and as loud as he could.
Tracey whispered something in her ear, and she shrugged, then gave an affirmative nod. They both took off their guitars, handing them off.. Taking their microphones from the stand, a slow song started playing. They began together, and a hush fell over the crowd. Something about the song or their voices blending was very special, and everyone stopped to listen. Tracey did the first verse, then they did the chorus together. Sandy did the second verse, and Bo thought he'd died and went to heaven. All that time she'd been helping him play his guitar, he had no idea just how good she really was. She could have been a singer, but just like she wasn't interested in money, she didn't seem to be interested in fame, either. She'd been put on this earth to help people, and she'd sure helped him. He couldn't deny it anymore. He didn't just love her, he was head over heels in love with her, and he didn't know what to do about it. She was like a tumbleweed, and the day was coming soon when she was going to tumble right on out of his life. He wondered if she loved him even a little, and if in time, he could make it grow.
He was brought back to reality by the pounding under his feet. Everyone around him was standing, and the applause was deafening. Of course, some people had to show their approval by stomping, and that was making the bleachers shake. Sandy had already jumped off stage, and was making her way back to them.
"Sandy Maverick, folks," Tracey said, letting people know who she was.
Downplaying her performance, she rejoined the Dukes as they enjoyed the rest of the show. Bo slid his arm around her again, but the moment that almost happened earlier had been lost.
"I can go home with Daisy,...if you want to go meet...your friend," Bo offered after the show.
"Nah, I am tired," she replied, "but if you'd rather go with them, I'll understand."
"Are you kidding?" he joked, extremely pleased that he wouldn't have to worry about what or who she was with that night. "They drive too slow."
