Deborah Mello - Forever a Stallion

“This is something!” Mason said, tipping his head toward John and Matthew, who’d settled down beside him.

John laughed. “Marah’s father, Edward, has been hosting this event since forever. Every year we’re amazed at just how big it’s gotten.”

Matthew nodded his concurrence. “At the rate we’re growing, I’m afraid we might run out of land to accommodate everyone,” he said jokingly.

John and Mason both laughed with him.

“So, what then?” Mason queried. “Will you buy the state of Texas?”

John grinned broadly. “Maybe Mexico, too, especially if we keep allowing these women to be in charge!” he mused.

Laughter rang out among them, the three men clearly having a good time.

From a safe distance across the way, Phaedra adjusted the lens on her camera, focusing her sight on the two brothers seated beside each other. She snapped a photo and then a second one before letting the camera rest back against her chest, hanging from a secure leather strap around her neck.

The rodeo event had been a stroke of luck for her. Access to the ranch and the Stallion men had come with minimal difficulty. From the moment Phaedra had stepped onto the property, the brothers had been front and center, taking their hosting responsibilities seriously. Without needing to ask, Phaedra had been able to identify the four of them almost instantly.

From the back pocket of her denim jeans, Phaedra pulled out the photograph she’d found in her mother’s possessions, glancing from them to it and back again. There was no mistaking the Stallion lineage detailed in their facial features, each son the spitting image of his father, and hers. Their resemblance to her was even more startling. From the warm coloration of their black-coffee complexions, chiseled jawlines, plush pillows for lips and warm, endearing smiles, Phaedra saw hints of her own reflection. She had their eyes, the same nose, high cheekbones and mouth. Had she inherited her father’s dark complexion instead of her mother’s milk-chocolate tone, she would easily have passed for a Stallion twin. Phaedra took a deep breath as she suddenly fought not to cry.

Lifting her camera back to her eyes, she peered through the lens, once again pointing it toward where the brothers sat. She focused her gaze on one and then the other. She watched as the brother on the end leaned over to exchange conversation with a man who sat on his sibling’s other side. Phaedra shifted her camera and refocused it, zooming in on the stranger. There was something about the handsome man that suddenly had her curious. She couldn’t help wondering who he was, his brilliant smile warm and magnanimous.

Whoever the man was, he was quite good-looking, Phaedra thought as she spun the lens into focus, snapping a quick shot and then a second. The trio seemed quite friendly with one another, clearly enjoying the events playing out in the center of the arena. And then, as if his radar had sounded an alarm, the man suddenly looked up, his gaze shifting directly toward her as if he knew she was staring at him. Phaedra lowered her camera abruptly, feeling as if she’d gotten caught with both hands in the cookie jar, her palms overflowing with her favorite oatmeal-raisin treats. She pulled her hands through the length of her hair. The moment was slightly unnerving.

From the ground below, Phaedra suddenly heard her name being called, the sound of it startling her from her thoughts.

“Phaedra? Is that you? Phaedra Parrish!”

Glancing below, she caught sight of the red-haired white man waving wildly for her attention. His own cameras hung down against his side as he struggled not to drop them. Phaedra’s eyes widened brightly, the familiar face warming her spirit.

“Hooper!” Phaedra squealed, waving back. She eased her way down from the bleachers to move to the man’s side.

With his mane of fire-engine-red hair and the pipe that hung from his mouth like an appendage, Hooper Mars was a welcome sight, looking more like a lumberjack right out of the thick of a deep forest than the award-winning photographer that he was. Hooper’s brilliant smile put Phaedra instantly at ease. As she stepped off the last plank, the man wrapped her in a deep bear hug.

Her mentor in art school, Hooper was single-

handedly responsible for Phaedra changing her major from creative writing to photography. The two had become fast friends, he challenging her creative spirit and she excelling beyond his expectations. Phaedra’s successful career had only been rivaled by his.

“Watch the camera!” Phaedra laughed, lifting the device above her head as she hugged him tightly.

“Nice equipment,” Hooper responded, eyeing her Canon 5D Mark II full-frame camera with its long telephoto lens.

Phaedra adjusted her Lowepro camera backpack against her shoulder. “Thanks. What are you doing here?” she asked, surprise still ringing in her tone.

“Working. You?”

“Not working!” Phaedra said with a smile.

“So, what brings you all the way to Dallas and to here of all places?”

Phaedra hesitated, her shoulders shrugging skyward. “I was just passing through town before I head to my next gig in Thailand and I heard about the rodeo. Thought I’d stop by to check it out. See what I might be able to shoot,” she said, hoping she sounded believable.

Her friend nodded his understanding. “I was really sorry to hear about your mother, Phaedra. She was a really sweet lady.”

Phaedra took a deep breath and forced her mouth into a slight smile. “Thanks, Hooper. And thank you for the flowers! I really appreciated you thinking of me.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” the man said. There was a sudden rush of noise behind them as the audience cheered something going on in the center of the arena. Both Phaedra and Hooper both turned to stare as a horse and rider went through their paces.

“I should be shooting this,” Phaedra said absently, her gaze shifting for a split second toward the stands and the men who were still sitting in observation.

“Speaking of shoot, I loved that LeBron James layout you did for Sports Illustrated. Creative, challenging, technically proficient. That was some nice work, woman. That shot where you had him hanging upside down from the basketball hoop was seriously dope!”

Phaedra turned her attention back to her friend. “Thank you! It was fun to do and LeBron was a dream client. So, what are you working on here?”

“I’m here to shoot the wedding.”

Phaedra eyed him curiously. “What wedding?”

“The Stallion wedding. I’m the wedding photographer.”

Phaedra laughed. “I didn’t know you did weddings.”

Hooper shrugged. “I usually don’t, not in a good long time, but I bend the rules for my very special friends. The bride,” he said, lifting his eyebrows, “is Joanne Lake. We were roomies for a short time back in Cali when she was going to art school and I was aspiring to make movies.”

“I didn’t know you made movies.”

Hooper laughed. “It was a very short porn career because I was very short.”

Phaedra shook her head, laughing with him. “So, this Joanne Lake is getting married to one of the Stallions?”

“Yep!” Hooper nodded. “The youngest brother, Luke Stallion. Great guy! They make a nice couple.”

Phaedra felt her heart skip a quick beat. Knowing where she fell in the lineup of Stallion offspring had been a point of angst for her mother. During their short tryst, James Stallion had been married, the truth of that coming as a complete surprise. Although he’d been separated from his wife during the time they were together, the revelation of his marital connection had not sat well with the matriarch. James returning to his wife and three older sons had been earth-shattering, completely devastating Arneta’s world. Now here Phaedra was, discovering that her younger brother was about to be married. She took a deep breath, holding it for a brief moment before blowing the air out slowly.