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Post by wayne jordan brooks on Apr 13, 2011 19:16:33 GMT -8
The ‘ding’ of a doorbell sounded as the cowboy walked through the door. The smell of leather, ropes, and hide filled his nostrils. His chocolate eyes scanned the premises, a floor of western and English saddles crowded one room, headstalls, reins, tie-downs, and other training aids covered the walls. The up-stairs was filled with apparel, boots, jeans, shirts. They sold both casual and show apparel in the English and Western styles at the Tack Shop. Not to mention the feed store they had in the back. The place was an old warehouse, but a place like this was needed around Addison. Wayne did not come for the roping tack or anything like that. He came for a few new shirts, and a room they had hidden up stairs in the back near the boots.
Wayne walked up the wooden stairs, moving through the racks of clothes and heading towards the boots. He walked down the men’s boots aisle before heading towards the room. He took a right at the corner, walked into what he guessed used to be an office for the warehouse back in the day. The room now held bull ropes, gloves, belles, bronc saddles, shoulder braces, and more. It was a rough stock riders dream; this room and the warehouse surely did make their share of money off Wayne. Wayne browsed through the leather gloves; his own gloves had rubbed a hole through the palm from his bull rope. He would be due for a new rope soon, but for now, he would stick with a new glove. They were much cheaper. He grabbed a bag of rawhide strings and a thing of ace bandage, heading towards the racks of clothes.
At his last rodeo, he tore a hole in one of his CINCH shirts. He needed to buy a new one, and he would probably purchase a new pair of wranglers while he was at it. He had a big rodeo coming up in Houston. It would be his first rodeo back on a bull in the ranks; therefore, he wanted to be dressed prim and proper. He also got a bronc draw, and he drew Jack’s Ace. He was a rank bucker out of Oklahoma, and Wayne had worked the bronc before at different rodeos as a pick-up man. He of course would be bringing his pick-up horse, just incase he got knocked around enough to not be able to ride his stock. He could always be counted on as a pick-up man. It helped him make money on weekends when he was out, which seemed to be every weekend since his accident.
Wayne was dressed in a long sleeved, blue plaid shirt. His shirt was neatly tucked into his wrangler jeans, the denim faded from ranch work and riding. The jeans fell over his arait boots, bull spurs scuffed the ground with each step he took. A worn out black felt cowboy hat covered his deep brown locks. For being a twin, he looked nothing like the sister that came out a few minutes before him. His older brother and sister looked more like twins the actual twins did. They also acted more a like and spoke more a like. Of course Wayne and Dixie had the weird twin thing, where they had lassie type senses and could tell when one was in trouble or hurt. However, Wayne had dark brown hair, was tall, tan, muscular, and had deep brown eyes. He was religious, quiet and sincere. Dixie was wild, crazy, and a partier. She had long blonde hair and green eyes. The only thing that made the two twins was their birthdates, other then that they were polar opposites.
Wayne came around a rack, grabbing a pair of wranglers along with his chinch shirt and heading downstairs. He walked towards the tack area, just wondering about the price of a pair of reins. It is not as if he could not afford them, but he was particular with his money. He was a cowboy after all, he never knew when he would be getting paid or not. It all mattered if he rode and if he rode well. He noticed a cute blonde standing near the reins. Wayne neatly put the hand full of stuff on the counter before heading towards the roping & barrel reins section. He smiled at the girl, tipping his cowboy hat, “Good afternoon, Ma’am. Mind if I grab them ropers in front of you?” Wayne asked politely, not wanting to reach in front of her or take something she wanted. His mom had taught him respect and manners. |
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