The Bull Rider Wears Pink by Jeanine McAdam Page A

words he was so generously dishing out.
    With a firm nod Mrs. Goodwin, the
registration lady, sat next to Cassidy. Cassidy smiled and when she didn’t get
much back, she waved. It seemed the woman still didn't like the idea of her
riding in the men’s division even though nothing was said this time.
    “I want to hear the Battlestar stuff,” Kevin protested.
    “We leave after that,” Cassidy told
him. She shifted in her seat.
    Kevin shook his head. “I'm thinking
about writing a story about a virtuous preacher gone bad ,”
he explained. “I need material.” He wrapped his fingers around the seat of the
chair. “I'm staying until the end. You can go if you want.”
    “Virtuous preacher gone bad ,” Cassidy said slowly her voice going up a little. “Where
did you get that idea?” Kevin couldn't know that John was a jaded cop gone good . Cassidy stared at her son. After that comment
yesterday about working for the greater good, she was starting to think her son
was either extremely insightful and on to something, or the things he said were
just dumb luck.
    Kevin shrugged. “I don't know.” He
turned his attention to the podium.
    “Today,” John started the sermon
after his six parishioners sat down. Two Venezuelan bull riders, Mrs. Goodwin,
one buckle bunny looking like she'd been up all night plus Cassidy and Kevin. “We
are going to talk about redemption.”
    Cassidy shifted in her seat. Yes, she
was having her own personal redemption on the back of a bull, where she was
trying to repent for all the painful things she'd done to the people she loved,
especially Kevin. Abandoning a three year old was not good and lying to her
family about her work in L.A. was also bad.
    “I thought you were going to preach
about Battlestar ,” Kevin shouted at the podium.
    Cassidy tapped him on the knee and
tried to shush him.
    “I'm going to get to that,” John
told the boy. He chuckled in a kindly way. “But first I want to talk about all
the bad things we've done during this lifetime of ours.” His attention was on
Cassidy. “And how we can find forgiveness.”
    She tapped her foot on the worn
carpet. Instead of feeling hot and bothered by John she was now uncomfortable
and self-conscious. She really didn't need this today. Tonight she was riding
with the men for the first time. She needed to get her head in that game both
mentally and physically.
    “I looked redemption up,” John
continued, “on the Internet.” He waited for the laughs. He smiled once he got
them, even from Mrs. Goodwin. His innocent charm was contagious. Cassidy
unfolded her arms.
    “About.com,” John announced, “tells
us redemption involves going from something bad to something good.” He said it
again, “Going from bad to good.” He waited letting the words sink in. The organ
music played in the background on continuous loop.
    “But many of us,” he explained, “don't
believe it's possible to move toward something good. To
forgive ourselves when we've done something bad.” He was back to
preaching directly to Cassidy. She looked down at what she assumed was a coffee
stain on the carpet. She didn't need John's somber eyes searching her face for something she couldn't give him.
    “We don't believe we should be
forgiven,” he continued, his voice persistent and relentless through the small
room. “But once we accept that we've done wrong, fully take responsibility for
that wrong and decide never to do it again.” He took a deep breath. “We can
find redemption through forgiveness.”
    “It's a lot harder than it sounds,”
Cassidy leaned over and whispered at Kevin. Her hands clasped in her lap, knuckles
slowly turning white. No, she wasn't going to cry. She wouldn't cry. But damn it,
John's words were landing too close to home.
    Kevin nudged her in the ribs. “When
is he going to talk about Commander Adama ?”
    “I don't know,” Cassidy said. She
returned her attention to studying the stain on the carpet. It looked like