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The Roper
The Roper
The Roper
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The Roper

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The Roper is the story of a cowboy, Josh Halley, who takes care of his ranch in Wyoming and competes professionally as a roper in the rodeos. He does this more as a hobby. It is also the story of Rich Olson, a plumber, who also ropes professionally. Both are good men, but Rich is more of a competitor. He takes roping very seriously. It is also a story of their loves and trials.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateOct 24, 2019
ISBN9781796067484
The Roper

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    Book preview

    The Roper - Jim Hawley

    Copyright © 2019 by Jim Hawley.

    ISBN:              Hardcover                978-1-7960-6745-3

                            Softcover                  978-1-7960-6744-6

                            eBook                       978-1-7960-6748-4

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    Rev. date: 10/24/2019

    Xlibris

    1-888-795-4274

    www.Xlibris.com

    801036

    Contents

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 1

    Richard Olson rolled his wheel chair up beside the counter. He reached over toward the small collection of coffee cups. Though he had long arms, he found he could only reach the nearest cup with his fingers.

    Damn her, muttered Rich. She should know I can’t reach these. Why does she have to put them so far back?

    He stretched a little further and, fingering the handle of the closest, inched it forward just enough that he could get his finger through the ceramic handle. He pulled the cup over and, grabbing it securely, placed it in his lap. He moved the chair slowly forward a few inches to where the coffeemaker was. He put the cup on the silver landing and leaned forward to place a new pod in the coffeemaker’s receptacle. Where was she, he thought as the coffee trickled into the cup. She should have been home half an hour ago. He could also tell by the smell that he needed to be changed.

    Hi, Honey, greeted Amma Hickson Olson as she entered the door.

    Where have you been? snapped Rich.

    I had to finish a report at work, explained Amma as kindly as she could. I had to get it done. I have to get it to the board in the morning.

    Well, continued Rich. I could barely reach the coffee cup and I need changed.

    Oh, Honey, smiled a tired Amma. I’ll move them closer. She placed her purse on the chair at the counter and leaned over and kissed the top of Rich’s head. Oh, my, you do need changed, she grinned slightly. She pushed his wheelchair over to the lift and Rich placed his arms through the loops. He pulled himself up with his strong arms. Quickly, Amma removed his diaper and, taking a wipe from the plastic container, wiped the feces from his rear. She placed the dirty diaper and wipe in the container used just for this. Inspecting his rump to make sure there were no signs of yeast, she placed another diaper on him.

    I hate that you have to do this, remarked Rich after lowering himself back into the wheelchair. But I also hate sitting in it.

    I know, Honey, said Amma. I tried to get home as soon as I could.

    Did you get rid of that horse like I told you to?

    Amma paused a moment. Yes, I did.

    Good, snarled Rich. Dog food’s about he was good for.

    Amma paused a little longer this time. Yes, Hon.

    How much did you get for him?

    Two hundred dollars.

    Well, snorted Rich. That’s more than I expected.

    But, Loki was so pretty, said Amma softly. Did you have to have him destroyed?

    He was a tool, grunted Rich. If a tool gets worn out, I throw it away. He was broken… good for nothing else.

    But he didn’t do it on purpose.

    He was broken, I tell you.

    Okay, agreed Amma. She busied herself rearranging the coffee cups. Have you given any more thought to getting a nurse to help during the day?

    You mean, a babysitter? Rich contradicted. No! I won’t have it. I can take care of myself.

    Okay, Hon, cooed Amma. She sighed and pushed him over beside the large chair. She plopped down into the chair. Do you want to go fishing tomorrow?

    I’m not much of a fisherman, puffed Rich.

    We can go to the landing. I can push you onto the landing and you can fish from there.

    You go if you want, said Rich with a wave of his hand. I don’t feel like it.

    But, it isn’t until tomorrow, continued Amma sweetly. You might feel better tomorrow.

    I’ll feel the same tomorrow as I do today, returned Rich. And the same as I felt yesterday.

    The two sat silently for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts. They watched TV mindlessly for two hours.

    Give me the TV remote, demanded Rich.

    Here, Love, said Amma as she handed the remote to Rich.

    I don’t need that, snapped Rich. There’s nothing on anyway.

    But, Hon, said Amma softly. You asked for the remote.

    I did? asked Rich. I meant that I need changed. I stink.

    Again? asked Amma sweetly. Are you having diarrhea?

    No. Just bad lunch.

    I’m off tomorrow. I’ll fix you a better lunch.

    I need changing, repeated Rich.

    Well, Hon, use the bar to pull yourself up.

    Without another word, Rich rolled his wheelchair over to where a metal bar hung down on a chain from the bedroom doorframe. He reached up and grabbed the bar, then hoisted his body up and, one by one, swung his arms over the bar so that he was held up by his armpits. Amma walked over with the supplies and removed his malodorous diaper. She cleaned his bottom with medicated wipes and, placing the wipes in the diaper, folded the diaper up and set it aside. She replaced his diaper with a clean one and hurried to deposit the old diaper in the lidded waste can.

    There, all fixed, she smiled after she had washed her hands.

    It just ain’t right that you have to do that, groused Rich.

    Oh, Hon, I really don’t mind, smiled Amma, though she really hated doing it.

    She had gotten a doctor’s note for home health visits three times a week. They helped clean him and check on the sores on his buttocks that he couldn’t feel, but were poisoning his body. They helped, but it was up to her to keep his perirectal area clean.

    Well, it just ain’t right, grunted Rich as Amma pulled up a clean adult diaper on his body.

    Amma tapped his shoulder and he lowered himself back into his chair.

    That damned horse was trained better’n that, grunted Rich as he plopped back into the chair. I don’t know what got inta him.

    It was an accident, Hon, sighed Amma.

    Yeah. He snarled then spat some chewing tobacco spittle into an empty beer can.

    You really shouldn’t chew, stated Amma softly. She knew that he knew this and never liked her help, but she felt the need to state it anyway. It doesn’t help your healing any.

    Rich looked up at her. I’m paralyzed! It ain’t gonna heal! He spat into the can again. I’m always gonna be paralyzed!

    Amma had heard this many times before and it was getting a little old, but she still felt the need to try to get him to remain healthy. Besides, when he kissed her, all she could think about was the brown, tobacco spittle.

    Can you push me back to the TV? questioned Rich.

    Sure, Hon, smiled Amma. She took the handles of his wheelchair and pushed him out of the kitchen into the living room and, pushing a little forward then back and to the side, situated him in front of the television.

    Remote! demanded Rich.

    Here, Hon, cooed Amma as she handed the television remote control to Rich.

    Rich grabbed the control and clicked through the channels. He stopped when he found a re-run of a mindless sit-com. He looked over at Amma. Get me a beer.

    You should slow down on the beer, said Amma. She knew it was a mistake as soon as she said it.

    I said, get me a beer, shouted Rich. I didn’t say ‘would a beer be good for me’! He adjusted his chair, just to show her it wasn’t set perfectly. Now, get me a beer.

    Amma sighed and walked back to the kitchen. She pulled a beer from the refrigerator and opened the pop-top. She walked back to the living room and handed it to him.

    Rich grabbed the beer, causing a little to slosh onto his hand and lap. He licked the beer from his hand and took a long drink. Now, stay quiet and let me watch TV.

    Chapter 2

    Josh Halley loosened the girth on the gelding and, walking slowly, led the horse up the to fence around the arena. As the horse stood behind him, he leaned against the fence, crossing his arms over the upper metal bar.

    Hey, Josh, said a man standing at the fence beside Halley.

    Josh Halley looked over at the man. Hey, Ollie.

    Oliver Redhawk (Ollie), a tall Crow indian, leaned his tall, slim body against the fence beside Josh. You riding today?

    Yep, replied Josh. He looked over

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