CHAPTER 8
"Senor Matt! Telephone!" called Madre Rosa. Houston hit the mute button on the TV remote and picked up the phone by his chair. "Houston" he answered.
"Mattlock you old son of a gun! How the heck are ya!" said a familiar voice on the other end of the line.
"Steve? Is that you?" said Matt.
"Sure 'nuff! What're you doin' in this neck of the woods? Thought you were up there hobnobbin' with all them beautiful people in California." replied Steve.
" Well, CJ and I came down for Paul's funeral. Reckon you heard about that" said Houston.
"Yep. Such a waste. He was one heck of a header back in the day" said Steve.
"Sure was. I've been wondering about all the bad luck that seems to be following the circuit lately. Seems like an awful lot of folks getting killed. First there was Buck Neely up in Austin, then Richie Garcia down in San Antonio. And now Paul right here in Houston." Matt waited for a reply from Steve.
"Guess bad luck has come home to roost on the Texas circuit. Good thing you're not still riding" replied Steve.
"Yeah, that's for sure. So what are you up to lately? I heard you got hurt riding broncs after I quit roping with you. Doing okay now?" asked Houston.
"Well, 'bout as well as can be expected I guess. My legs got crunched pretty good when that bronc decided to do all his bucking in the chute. " said Steve. "Well, look Houston, it was good talking to you. Gotta go."
"Alright, Steve. You take care now." Houston thought there was a little bit of anger in the voice of the man he had just talked with. He had competed in team roping with Steve for 6 years until they had a disagreement over a blonde. Houston had teamed up with Cotton Belcamp the next time around the circuit and remembered hearing that Steve hadn't been able to find another partner. He switched to riding broncs and soon after was injured. Houston had left for California just two weeks before. Now he was starting to wonder if Steve had anything to do with the rodeo deaths.