Men In Chaps
You just can't talk about sexy cowboys without including chaps. There's nothing like a well-worn pair of chaps to set of the, um, physique of a hardworking man. And you can always tell the dimestore cowboys from the real cowhands, too. It's all in the chaps.
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a Kindle copy of all three books in the
♥ Hearts of Owyhee ♥ series!
Yes, the entire series!
But back to chaps... Chaps have been worn since ancient times. Medieval knights wore them, motorcycle riders and modern cowhands still do. Chaps weren't invented to be sexy (they just are), but to protect the rider's britches and legs. Anyone who has ridden through brush knows what a gouging and scratching you get. Leather chaps are tough and provide not just protection from stickers and scratches, but also minimal padding against impact.
But let's take a scenic tour.
|Nat Love aka Deadwood Dick|
Ben watched as Fred, whom everyone knew coveted Jake’s job, managed to saddle the mustang, crawl on, and take the reins. At the nod of his head, Crip and Slim let go. The horse exploded, bucking high, and spinning right. Fred stuck through the first burst, then the second as the wiry mustang reared and twisted, bucked and spun. In a spit second, the horse locked his front legs, skidded to an abrupt stop, and Fred sailed over his head.
“One minute and eighteen seconds,” Crip shouted. “Good job, Fred.”
Jake rested her arms on the fence beside Ben. “That’ll probably get him in the money round. Too bad he won’t win.”
Frowning, Reginald asked, “Money round?”
Jake rolled her eyes and Ben explained, “The Bar EL pays twenty dollars to the winner of round two. That’s why it’s called the money round.”
“Number twenty-two,” Crip called.
Reginald gritted his teeth. “Aw, hell, that’s me.”
The cowhands hooted and hollered. “Let’s see the greenhorn ride!”
Whip handed him a pair of worn chaps. “Know how to put these on?”
Jake rolled her eyes again. Ben didn’t want Reginald to be too humiliated--after all, his father was Ben’s boss. “Whip, you help him with the chaps and tell him what to do. I’ll get my saddle for him to use.”
Patience pushed her way through the cowhands and confronted her brother. “You simply can’t mean to do this. Why, it’s not dignified, let alone civilized!”
“Sister, you’re annoying me. Go tat some lace, or something.”
Jake moved between them. “Ma’am, if you ain’t riding, then get out of the way. Otherwise, draw a number.” Ben had never been prouder of Jake than at that moment. Ladies all over
cowed to Patience’s every whim. But not Jake. Never Jake. Boston
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Patience snarled.
Reginald took her arm and led her away. “Trust me, she can. Now go away and let me take my turn before they give it to someone else.” He turned to Ben. “I’m ready for the saddle, now.”
Patience stood back, her lips pursed. Ben figured she was angrier at Jake for showing her up than at Reginald defying her wishes. “Go over to where the other women are, Patience. You could get hurt out here.”
“As if you care!” She spun around and flitted to Mabel and Suzanne. Her lips were still going. Ben was thankful he didn’t have to listen.
Reginald put on a respectable show. Over thirty seconds was considered a decent ride on a rank horse. He came back dirty, sweaty, and grinning. “Damn, this is fun!”
“Even eating dirt?” Jake asked.
He wiped his face with his sleeve. “That part, I could do without.”
♥ Hearts of Owyhee ♥