Let me give a brief re-cap for all of you who are just tuning in to the story. Ryley Hale, our cowboy, was betrayed by Britney Spears, whom he thought he was in love with. So he left her and found a job in southern California, patrolling a large ranch where dozens of celebrities keep their horses. Ryley met up with Brooke Burke, an old love of his and they re-lit the fire they had once shared. They came close to running off together but Ryley dissuaded her from doing so. Enjoy this chapter, and I’d like to persuade you to email me your ideas and ask you to vote so I get an idea of the overall attitude towards the story- the cowboy
Ryley walked down the stairs from the loft he had been living in at the ranch. The warm, musty smell of the horses reached his nose as he opened the door from the stair well and stepped into the main causeway that ran through the barn. He placed his Stetson on his head and brushed off his faded jeans, trying to make himself presentable to the half a dozen curious female faces that turned towards him.
Walking down the row of stalls, Ryley looked in at each and every horse, admiring the sleek and powerful lines of some very expensive animals. Several of the horses that had come to know Ryley stuck their heads out, earning a quick rub down from Ryley. Eventually he made it out of the barn, despite the looks of some very good-looking girls.
For some reason Ryley wasn’t interested in them. It wasn’t that he didn’t like women or the ones that cast him the looks they did. But he could tell they saw him as a toy, something to play with, have their fun and then put back where they found it. Sometimes that was fine, but Ryley wanted something more, a relationship, romance and affection. These were thoughts that Ryley kept to himself most of the time, because a guy like Ryley was supposed to be free, a rebel, you know a cowboy.
Well Ryley definitely was a cowboy, but he needed a woman, someone he could give his heart to. But at the moment he needed to clear his head, so he pulled the keys for the Camaro out of his pocket. Rounding the corner of the barn he saw the car, glistening in the early morning sun. Climbing into the driver’s seat, he started the engine and shifted into gear.
He flipped on the CD player, cranking up the music so he could hear it over the sound of the motor. Ryley drove slowly down the driveway and onto the road. Once he had the rear tires on asphalt, Ryley gunned the motor and guided the car into a long, loud and graceful sideways power-slide. Straightening the car, he drove hard and fast along the back roads, which cut through a very rolling, rural area.
Ryley drive so hard and so precariously that every turn was accompanied by the sound of squealing tires. He hung the car on the edge of control, daring physics to take control of the Camaro. This was a dance, one that Ryley knew well and always lead.
Finally, Ryley turned onto a four lane county road with other cars, houses and businesses. He cooled down, dialing back his speed for the sake of those around him. Sitting back in his seat, Ryley stopped at a red light and watched the cars crossing in front of him along with some pedestrians.
From behind the Camaro, Ryley heard the sound of a nicely tuned engine and he swiveled in his seat to see what it was. Waiting right behind the Camaro was a metallic blue 1967 Sting Ray. Ryley could clearly see the big-block hood, so he knew the car had a 427 sitting in the engine compartment.
The driver was a middle-aged man, who smiled at Ryley and revved his engine, the deep-throated roar proving that the car had a big block. Ryley revved his engine, letting the Corvette driver hear the turbo’s spool up and the wicked whistle of the blow off valves releasing the compressed air. Ryley saw the man raise his eyebrows and give the thumbs up.
In the next moment the automotive serenity that surrounded the Corvette and Camaro was shattered by the incessant buzz of a souped up import. Ryley turned to his left as a white Supra rolled to a stop. The window rolled down and Ryley saw . . .
“ Son of a bitch,” Ryley said.
He couldn’t believe it. It was the same kid that had raced Britney the day they had gotten her Camaro. The kid sneered at Ryley, obviously not remembering who he was. He obviously didn’t hear the subtle whine of the twin turbo LT4 either.
“ Nice Camaro, man,” the kid called.
Ryley nodded.
“ Wanna see how fast it is?”
Ryley smiled. “ I know how fast it is.”
“ Okay, then how about if it’s faster then my ride?”
Ryley nodded. “ Sure, when the light turns green.”
The kid smiled and revved his engine. Ryley shook his head and merely brought the RPM’s up in the Camaro, holding it steady. He watched the opposing light and when it turned orange he fed the Camaro more gas, spooling up the first turbo.
The green light flashed on and Ryley dumped the clutch. The rear tires of the Camaro went up in a haze of smoke, as Ryley knew they would. The Supra, also spinning its tires jumped ahead by a car length, as Ryley eased up on the gas pedal. Now freshly heated, the rear tires of the Camaro caught the pavement and propelled the car forwards as if shot from a cannon.
Shifting quickly into second, Ryley pulled abreast of the Supra and passed the car like it was standing still. Ryley heard the engine of the Supra roar and the car passed him after inhaling a healthy dose of nitrous oxide. Working the gears, Ryley began to pull again on the Supra when the car suddenly swerved into his lane.
“ Fuck!” Ryley swore and slammed on the brakes.
The rear wheels locked up at eighty miles an hour, throwing up twin plumes of dense white smoke and filling the air with the sound of squealing rubber. Ryley struggled to control the Camaro as it turned ninety degrees to the left, forcing Ryley to counter steer wildly. Ryley now faced the very real possibility of the Camaro crashing into a building and injuring or killing an innocent bystander. As he struggled to control the Camaro he saw the kid in the Supra flip him the bird.
That did it; Ryley’s instincts took over. He whipped the steering wheel to the left and downshifted, gunning the motor. The rear tires spun, viciously and the Camaro spun counter clockwise, now facing the way it had been going. Ryley brought the car back under control and fed the beast, watching the speedometer climb past ninety miles an hour.
The scenery around him began to change, becoming more rural, the road surrounded by fairly flat plains of scrub grass and sagebrush. Up ahead, Ryley saw the Supra still cruising at a fairly high rate of speed. Gritting his teeth, Ryley punched the accelerator and the Camaro roared up alongside the Supra. Ryley glared over at the other driver whose face had gone deathly pale.
Ryley pushed the Camaro past the Supra and cut across the other lane. The Supra swerved to avoid the Camaro, fishtailing wildly. Suddenly the Supra spun out of control and went right into the ditch alongside the road. Sticking his hand out the window, Ryley flipped the kid in the Supra the bird. Smiling to himself, he brought the Camaro back down to a more acceptable speed.
Suddenly, the Corvette that had been behind the Camaro at the stoplight before, roared up next to Ryley. The driver was shouting something over the roar of the engines but Ryley couldn’t hear him. Putting in the clutch and letting off the gas, Ryley lowered the noise from the Camaro.
“ Pull over,” shouted the driver.
“ What for?” Ryley shouted back.
“ I need to talk to you.”
Ryley nodded. “ Follow me.”
The Corvette fell back behind the Camaro and Ryley drove for a few more miles until he saw a roadside diner, with a few gas pumps. Ryley pulled into the parking lot and stopped the Camaro next to a row of motorcycles. The Corvette pulled up next to the Camaro, also cutting its engine.
Ryley stepped out of the Camaro and closed the door. The other guy also climbed out of his Corvette. Ryley saw he was wearing a pair of jeans, boots and a sport coat. He smoothed his hands through his short gray hair.
“ So what’s up?” Ryley asked.
“ That was some of the best driving I’ve ever seen. Where did you learn to drive like that?”
“ It’s a long story.”
The man nodded. “ Buy ya a cup of coffee?”
“ Why?” Ryley asked.
“ I have a business proposition for you.”
Ryley walked into the diner and sat down at the counter with this guy. They each got a cup of coffee and Ryley ran the guy through his entire career of building and racing cars. The man actually took out a notepad and jotted down a few notes, which amused Ryley to the point where he had to suppress a laugh.