CHAPTER 2

An hour later as CJ was flying high above the Southwestern states, Houston was heading out to ask around about the latest accident involving one of his former rodeo competitors. He pulled up the driveway of Cotton Belcamp's newly acquired ranch. Cotton had just retired from team roping competition and had married a wealthy young lady who just happened to be fifteen years his junior. As he got out of his truck he noticed a beautiful blonde walking toward him.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked politely. "Yes, ma'am. I'm looking for Cotton. My name's Matt Houston. Cotton and I used to be team roping partners a few years back."

"Of course, Mr. Houston. Cotton's told me all about you" she said with a smile. "He's just out back of that barn right there. Go on back and I'll go in and make you boys some lemonade."

"Thank you. That'd be nice" Houston replied as he headed toward the barn.

As he neared the back corner of the barn he heard two voices: one male and one decidedly female talking in hushed tones. He made sure to cough and scuff his boots in the dirt so that they would know that they would soon have company. When he rounded the corner, there stood Cotton. He was just as short as ever and had gained a few gray hairs as well as a few pounds since the last time he and Matt had competed together in the rodeo.

"Matt Houston, you low-down pig herder! It's good to see ya, boy! How long has it been – five- six years now?"

"More like ten, Cotton. How're you doing?" replied Houston, shaking his hand and making note of the nervous look on the face of the woman that was standing there with them.

"Doing good, Houston, doing real good. Oh, by the way, this here's my sister-in-law, Connie."

"Connie, nice to meet you" he said as he tipped his hat to her. "Just thought I'd stop by and see how retirement is treating you."

"Retirement hell!" said Cotton. "Seems like I'm having to work harder now than I did on the circuit! All these new stock rules and regulations that the association has rammed down our throats. If I was a few years younger I'd go right back out there and start competing again and leave all the paper work and worry to some other fool."

"Doesn't seem like all their new rules and regulations are helping folks much. Three riders have been killed on the circuit in the last four months. But I guess you already know about that. I was down here for Paul Dickens funeral. Thought I might see you there yesterday."

"Naw, didn't get to go. Had too much work to do here." said Cotton.

"Sure does seem strange, all the folks getting killed so close together. What's your take on it?" said Houston.

"Well, I don't rightly know. Paul got killed when the cinch on that bronc he was riding broke. Heard rumors that folks had seen him wobblin' around there. Seems like he had taken to having a little whiskey to soothe a broken heart his last wife left him with. Maybe he didn't inspect the equipment like he should have. Don't know. He was a good man, though, and a heck of a header when he was doing team roping."

"Yep, he was that" replied Houston. "So what have you been up to lately, Cotton? Still go down to that old roadhouse out on Shoot Creek Highway?"

"Naw, I'm an old married fella now, can't be out there drinking and carousing like I used to. Pam would kill me!" he said, with a big belly laugh. "I'm surprised one of them Hollywood starlets hasn't hog tied you and put a ring on your finger yet."

"Nooo, not me. I'm not interested in settlin' down just yet" laughed Houston. "Well, it was good to see you. Please give your wife my congratulations on the marriage."

"Will do, cowboy. You take care."