Crystal's Rodeo Debut

By Stephen Bly and Janet Chester Bly

What secrets will a century-old pioneer journal reveal? Crystal Blake, Shawn Sorensen, and their friends hope it will lead them to long lost treasure. They could become rich and maybe famous! And if that's not enough excitement, the high school rodeo team tryouts are this week. What chance does Crystal have against kids who were practically born on their horses? And her being the new kid in school too. Ready or not, it was Crystal’s turn to perform for the high school rodeo team tryouts. Caleb, her big, gray Appaloosa, dug in and made an incredible turn around the first barrel, almost flipping Crystal. If she kept this up, she’d have a great time score. But then, her ankle crashed against the second barrel and it rolled across the arena. Pain shot through her body. Did she break her ankle? She'd never make the team now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bly Books
• Release date: Apr 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370503629

Stephen Bly

Stephen Bly (1944-2011) authored and co-authored with his wife, Janet Chester Bly, more than 100 books, both historical and contemporary fiction and nonfiction. He won the Christy Award in the category western novel for The Long Trail Home, from The Fortunes of the Black Hills Series. Other novels were Christy Award finalists: The Outlaw's Twin Sister, Picture Rock, and Last of the Texas Camp. His last novel, Stuart Brannon's Final Shot, finished with the help of his widow, Janet Chester Bly, and three sons--Russell, Michael, and Aaron--was a SELAH Award finalist. She just completed her first solo adult Indie novel, Wind in the Wires, Book 1, Trails of Reba Cahill.

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Crystal Blake Adventures

Book 3

Crystal’s Rodeo Debut

Stephen and Janet Bly

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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For a list of other books by Stephen and Janet Bly write:

Bly Books, P.O. Box 157, Winchester, ID 83555

Or check website: http://www.blybooks.com/

Copyright©1986 by Stephen and Janet Bly

Cover illustration by Paul Turnbaugh

Cover Book design by Chris Patchel

Dedication:

For Cassandra

and all those ribbons she will win.

Chapter 1

Just A Bit Off

Crystal stalked around the cabin surveying her domain.

In less than three hours she’d enter her first barrel racing competition at the junior rodeo in Nez Perce, Idaho. Everything had to be just right. She re-examined the clothes draped across the bed: a new pair of jeans, yellow bandana, a yellow and green gingham blouse. Her first pair of boots flopped next to the doorway. She even talked her father into letting her purchase a new bridle and bit for Caleb, her gray Appaloosa horse.

After tying the scarf around her neck, and placing the straw cowgirl hat on her blonde head, she peeked into the broken mirror on the cabin wall. Not bad for a fourteen-year-old city girl. She frowned. Crystal couldn’t decide whether to stuff her long, straight hair into her hat or let it fall.

I guess it's not all that important, she decided out loud. After all, the race will be over in a flash, and we’re going straight home.

Crystal LuAnne Blake and her family called southern California their home, at least for a while. Recently her dad, Matthew Blake, announced they’d be moving to Idaho where he’d pursue his occupation as a writer. The thought of leaving the home she’d lived in all her life troubled her some, but she looked forward to the possibilities for herself here in Idaho, too.

I know, she cried out. She tossed her hat on the bed. I’ll braid it. She sat down on a nearby chair and twisted her hair, then inspected the finished project in the mirror. She moaned. I look like a tomboy.

Then she remembered to smile. That made a difference.

Crystal pulled on her boots and clomped around the wooden floor to get used to them. Then she grabbed her hat and scooted outside to help her dad.

Matthew Blake closed the back door to the horse trailer as Crystal emerged. Okay, cowgirl, you ready to rodeo?

I guess—how do I look? She twirled around.

I think you’re gorgeous, but I’ve thought that since the day you were born.

Do the braids look funny? She screwed up her face.

No, I like them. You look like a barrel racer. Come on, let’s get down the hill to Nez Perce. What time did Shawn say he’d meet us?

Crystal glanced at her watch. About four o'clock. But the competition doesn’t begin until six.

Mr. Blake steered the pickup down the road past Bucky’s Cafe, and out of Elk City. As they wound along the south fork of the Clearwater River, Crystal tried to imagine what the barrel race would be like. She’d never entered the event before. In fact, she’d never even witnessed one. She didn’t expect to come close to winning, but she hoped she wouldn’t be too humiliated and not do anything dumb.

Lord, help me have a decent barrel run time and maybe meet some neat, new friends.

A flash of lightning and roll of thunder startled Crystal from her daydreams. Darks clouds rolled across the sky, many now stacked against the Bitterroot Mountains to the east. Soon, a torrent of rain swept across the road and peppered the truck.

They’ll call off the rodeo, Crystal wailed to her dad.

Mr. Blake pushed back his brown Stetson hat. Oh, I don’t think a little rain will stop them up here. Besides, it’s just a summer storm. It’ll clear in an hour.

By the time they switch backed to the top of the far side of the south fork, the storm broke. Oceans of blue sky swirled with pale silver clouds. Thirty minutes later, when they pulled into the Lewis County fairgrounds at Nez Perce, the sun beamed brightly on mud puddles. They parked in a pasture and filed into the arena already filled with contestants and their families.

Shawn rushed over to greet them.

He and Crystal had known each other only one week, but it seemed like a much longer time. They’d been through adventures together. Right now Shawn looked taller than six feet with his gray cowboy hat and his silver belt buckle glistened.

Hey, Crystal, Shawn said. You’re all set. I entered you in the novice barrels, for girls in their first year of competing. You owe me ten dollars.

She pulled off her hat and shaded her eyes. What for?

Entry fee. That’s how they get the money to buy the prizes.

She laughed. You mean, I have to pay for this misery?

How else could you get your own silver buckle?

Like the one you have?

Sort of. I got this for winning the calf roping at the Weippe rodeo with a 9.9 score. He looked behind her. Hey, there’s Brad.

Brad who? Crystal turned around.

Brad Paller from Riggins. He’s going to rope with me in the team event. I’ll be right back. Unload Caleb and ride him around a little to stretch him out. Check out his footing in that muddy arena.

Shawn ran to a truck and trailer and she hurried over to Caleb.

I’m headed to the officials’ stand to check procedures, her dad hollered.

Crystal saddled Caleb and jumped at a voice close behind her.

Hi! I’m Betsy Jo. Are you Shawn’s friend?

Crystal stared into the face of a girl her same height with jet black hair and dark complexion. A black hat shaded her flashing eyes.

I’m Crystal Blake. You know Shawn? She didn’t know if she wanted to find out.

I’m his cousin—another Sorensen. Betsy Jo smiled as she held out her hand.

Much relieved, Crystal relaxed and shook hands with enthusiasm. Do you live here?

Right in beautiful downtown Nez Perce, she said. You’re from California, right?

Yeah, but not for long. I think we’ll be moving to Winchester this fall.

You’ll go to Highland High at Craigmont. There’s no high school in Winchester. Betsy Jo faked a scowl. You’ll be my arch enemy.

Crystal laughed, then asked, How many cousins does Shawn have? I know he has some at Elk City and Riggins, too.

At last count, twenty-eight of us on the Sorensen side. Grandma and Grandpa had eight children. But there are some on his mother’s side, too. The standard joke is there’s a Sorensen every eight miles from Boise to Canada. Come on, let’s ride together. Betsy Jo mounted a tall, black horse.

Crystal mounted Caleb. Have you raced horses long?

Since I was eight years old.

Crystal felt a nervous lump rise in her throat.

The fence around the arena was old, and most of the bleachers on the west side had seen better days. Only the center section of seats was covered, and a few early spectators sat there. Betsy Jo and Crystal entered the south gate. To the right, Crystal recognized the loading chutes for the bucking events. To their left, catch pens for the roping events. Caleb sank in several inches of mud.

Yuck, are we supposed to race in this mess? Crystal called out.

Betsy Jo turned to answer. Hey, this isn't as bad as down in Pomeroy last spring. I lost a boot in the mud. Took me ten minutes to find it.

While a couple dozen other riders milled around, Betsy Jo guided her horse around the barrel racing pattern, even though the barrels weren’t yet in place. Crystal and Caleb followed alongside, as Crystal confessed, This is my first time. What do I need to do?

Did you sign in and pay your fee?

Shawn did that for me.

Then you have your number. Pin it on your back or jeans. I like mine on my jeans next to my boot.

Then what? Crystal prompted.

"Well, novice barrels are about the third event. You can wander around