by Marin Thomas
“Ladies,” Tony said, stopping in front of the women. He removed his sunglasses and held out his hand to Lauren. “Tony Bravo.”
“Tony Bravo…that’s like a superhero name.”
The sound of Tony’s chuckle warmed Lucy’s blood.
“I’m Lauren McGraw. My dad’s getting a bull ready for Lucy to ride.” Lauren glanced between Lucy and Tony. “I’ll see if he needs help.”
After Lauren walked away, Lucy asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I came to help you.”
“I don’t need your help.” The protest rang hollow in her ears. She was more than relieved that Tony had shown up today.
“Lucy, I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. I might not be able to stop this ludicrous mission of yours, but I can try to keep you from coming out on the short end of a bull ride.”
Before they got caught up in rodeo, Lucy asked, “What’s happening with Nina?” The little girl had been on her mind all week.
Tony put his mirrored glasses back on and Lucy wished he hadn’t. His eyes were so expressive and she hated not knowing what he was really thinking. “Nina’s fine. She’s given us information that’s helping with our surveillance plans.”
“Have you contacted her parents?”
“Yes, but we have to be careful how we communicate with them so we don’t tip off the cartel.”
“You’re certain this is the work of a Mexican cartel?”
“We know who’s behind the kidnappings. All that’s left to do is catch them in the act.”
“Who’s taking care of Nina until you reunite her with her parents?”
“She’s staying with an agent’s grandmother.”
“Is Maddie with them or at your mom’s?”
“The dog’s at the grandmother’s house. I hope you don’t mind. Nina got upset when she thought she had to leave Maddie behind.”
“I’m sure Maddie’s having a lot more fun hanging out with Nina than she would sitting in a kennel all day.”
“I have to brief the agent on the case tonight. You’re welcome to come with me and visit Maddie.”
“Are you sure it’s okay if I know Nina’s whereabouts?”
“I trust you not to tell anyone.”
That Tony had faith in her pleased Lucy. “I’d love to go.”
“You ready?” He nodded to Lauren and Clint, who were loading Curly into the chute. “Looks like Lauren brought out some gear.”
She and Tony walked over to the corral. “I ordered a Kevlar vest and a protective face mask but they won’t be delivered until next week,” Lucy said.
“What about a riding glove?” Tony asked.
“Shoot. I forgot about a glove.” When they reached the corral, Lucy spoke to Lauren. “Do you happen to have a riding glove I can borrow?”
“Sure.” Lauren handed her a glove from the back pocket of her jeans and helped Lucy put on the vest and headgear. “If the glove’s not tight enough, there’s a smaller one in the barn that belongs to my stepmom.”
“This one’s perfect,” Lucy said after flexing her fingers. “The vest feels really tight. Is that normal?”
“You’ll be holding your breath most of the time so you don’t need to worry about breathing.” Lauren winked.
“Truthfully, you don’t need any gear with Curly,” Clint said. “Once he throws you, he stops bucking and walks away.” Clint fished a metal wire beneath the bull and caught the end of the bull rope then pulled it up over the other side of the animal. “You’d never guess that this bull won several titles in his heyday.” He nodded to Tony. “Clint McGraw.”
“Tony Bravo. I’ve ridden in a few Five Star Rodeos through the years.”
“P.T.’s semiretired now but he still puts his stamp on the rodeos,” Clint said.
“What’s Curly’s bucking style?” Tony asked.
“Straightforward. He doesn’t spin much. If he’s not aggressive enough, I’ve got a few bulls that haven’t been retired as long.”
“Curly will do fine for my first time,” Lucy said.
“Need me to stay?” Clint spoke to Tony.
“We’ll be fine.”
“Lauren can load Curly into the chute.” Clint patted his daughter on the back then returned to the barn.
“Curly likes me.” Lauren scratched the animal behind the ears and Lucy worried that she was about to ride a big cuddly teddy bear rather than a rodeo bull.
“Hop on and I’ll go over a few things with you,” Tony said.
Lucy settled onto Curly’s back, her inner thigh muscles straining as her legs stretched over the bull’s girth. Heat from the animal’s hide warmed her legs and fanny, triggering a release of nerves, and the cotton material beneath her armpits grew damp.
“Hold the bull rope in your left hand the way you did on the bucking machine,” Tony said.
Fumbling with her grip, Lucy couldn’t get a feel for the handle through the leather glove.
“Like this.” Tony pushed her fingers deeper beneath the handle then wrapped the end of the rope around her hand, securing it to the back of the bull. The wrap felt tight but still had a little give. “Line up your pinky finger with the center of Curly’s back.” She did as instructed. “Now scoot forward.” Tony pushed her from behind. Lucy wasn’t sure if the tingle racing through her body was caused by a spike in adrenaline or Tony’s hands on her fanny. Either way, she felt out of breath.
“When you open your hand, the rope should fall away,” he said.
Should being the operative word.
“The weight of the bell attached to the rope will help free your hand.”
“What next?” she asked, aware of Lauren hanging on Tony’s every word.
“Once Curly starts jerking, make note of his rhythm. It’ll help you hang on and keep you in better position for the dismount. Use your free arm for balance.”
Lucy would need more than one free arm to keep her from flying off Curly.
“Tilt your chin down toward your gloved hand. Every time the bull jumps, you dig in your heels, shift forward at the waist and lunge aggressively over his shoulders. When he kicks, relax your boot heels and come back to a seated position. Let the bull’s momentum carry you into the next cycle.”
“You want me to treat the bull as if he’s my dancing partner,” she said.
“That’s one way to think of it.”
“Should I count the seconds in my head?”
“No. Today, we’re practicing your dismount,” he said.
“You want me to fall off as soon as Curly clears the chute?”
“Yep.”
Lucy and Lauren exchanged puzzled looks then Lauren asked, “Why?”
“The dismount is where you’re most likely to get into trouble, whether you stay on the bull for eight seconds or not.”
That made sense, although Lucy didn’t like the idea of tumbling to the ground without even trying to ride the bull.
“Before you jump, make sure you release the rope. If your hand gets hung up, you’ll get dragged.”
“He’s right, Lucy. You don’t want to get caught under a bull.”
The image that flashed through Lucy’s head chipped away at her courage.
“What happens if I can’t get my hand free?”
“Then you fight like hell to keep your balance and stay on while the bullfighters try to help you,” Tony said.
Lucy would just have to make sure she didn’t end up in that situation.
“When you’re ready to dismount, use the bull as a springboard to push yourself off and then hit the ground on all fours.”
From what she remembered of watching her brother and Tony ride, rarely had either of them landed on all fours after they’d been thrown. Instead, th
ey’d hit the ground on their heads or shoulders, or done a face-plant in the dirt.
“Before you dismount, look over your left shoulder,” Tony said.
She did as instructed.
“Next, swing your right leg over in front of you and release the rope.”
Moving her leg took more effort than she’d anticipated because her thighs were spread far apart.
“Once you’re in that position, use the momentum of the bull’s next kick to launch yourself as far away as possible,” he said.
“After that?” she asked.
“Get up and run like hell for the rails.”
“Okay, then.” Lucy sucked in a deep breath. “I dismount on the bull’s left side.”
“That’s preferable.”
“What happens if I’m off balance and fall backward or forward?”
“Prepare yourself for a tough landing then get to your feet and run.”
“Don’t worry, Lucy,” Lauren said. “Landing doesn’t hurt as much as you might think.”
Well, that was certainly reassuring. Heart pounding, Lucy repeated Tony’s instructions in her head. Look over left shoulder. Release rope. Swing right leg over and release rope. Push off the bull. Land on all fours. Run like hell.
“Okay. I’m ready.” She squeezed the rope tightly, aligning her pinky finger with the middle of Curly’s back.
Lauren counted to three then opened the gate.
Even though Lucy believed she was ready—she wasn’t. Curly leaped from the chute and the sudden jerk tugged hard on her arm. Tony’s instructions were forgotten as her focus switched to the stinging pain spreading through her shoulder.
“Lucy!” Tony’s shout startled her. “Lift your leg!”
She jerked her leg over the back of Curly and released her grip on the bull rope, then flung herself toward the ground. She broke the fall with her hands first, then her left hip, before sprawling on her belly.
“Run!” Lauren shouted.
Still dazed, Lucy scrambled to her feet and stumbled a few steps before applying the brakes when Curly stepped into her path.
“You didn’t check to see where the bull was,” Tony said.
No kidding. Thank God Curly just stood there staring at her as if she were a moron. Lauren jumped into the pen. “C’mon, boy.” She loaded the bull into the chute for round two.
Keeping his voice low, Tony approached Lucy. “You okay?”
If she told him that her arm ached like hell, he’d end the training session. “Yeah, sure. Why?”
He pointed to her arm.
Unaware she’d been cradling the limb against her body, she straightened her arm slowly and said, “I’m fine.”
“There’s no shame admitting you’re in over your head.”
“Quit trying to talk me out of—” Lucy hadn’t realized she’d spoken so loudly until Lauren cleared her throat.
“I think I hear my dad calling me.” The teenager made a hasty retreat.
“I admire you for wanting to honor your brother’s memory, but not even Michael would have wanted you to put yourself in danger.”
She was riding in memory of her brother but also for redemption. Forgiveness. “That was my very first time on a bull and practice makes perfect, right?”
Tony shoved his hand through his short hair. “When your father finds out I’m helping you, he’ll have my head and my job.”
“You don’t have to help me.”
He walked away, stopped short then faced Lucy across the pen. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“You backed me into a corner.”
“How?”
“I’m screwed. If I help you, then your father will blame me if you get injured, and if I don’t help you and you get injured, he’ll still blame me.”
Lucy conceded that Tony was probably right. “I promise I’ll stay healthy and injury-free.” And she would, darn it.
“Nothing I say or do will stop you from doing this?” he asked.
“No.”
The muscle along his jaw bunched. “Okay, then. Get on and try your dismount again.”
Swallowing an unladylike curse, Lucy did as she was told and Curly behaved like a gentleman in the chute. She adjusted her grip, waiting for Tony to give her advice or encouragement. He kept silent. So be it. He’d find out soon enough that Lucy Durango was a lot tougher than people gave her credit for.
After more than an hour in the blazing sun, all Lucy had accomplished was showing Tony what an abject failure she was—she had the bumps and bruises to prove it. Careful to keep her pain hidden, she grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler Lauren had set by the corral before leaving with her father to run errands in Yuma. Clint had instructed Tony to put Curly in the barn after they finished with him.
“Ready to give up?”
“Nope.” Tony wanted her to admit she’d had enough and that he’d been right—she was in no shape to rodeo. Fat chance.
Tony watched Lucy struggle to climb the corral rails. Her boot slipped on the bottom rung and her knee banged against the bar. He cringed with her. The woman had way too much courage and spunk for her own good. If he let her, she’d ride until she broke a bone. If she wasn’t going to put an end to this torture then he would. “You’re done.” Tony opened the chute and the bull walked out of the enclosure. How the hell Lucy believed she was going to ride a competitive rodeo bull if she couldn’t perform a safe dismount on an old has-been like Curly was beyond Tony.
“I’m not ready to quit today,” Lucy protested, limping after Tony as he led the bull into the barn. “This isn’t fair.”
“Damn straight it’s fair. You’re too banged up to ride anymore. As it is, it’ll take a week for your sprained ankle to heal, not to mention the sore ligaments in your shoulder.” And all the other muscle pulls she’d suffered. Tony walked Curly into a large pen at the back of the barn, then latched the gate and faced Lucy. He expected anger, not the tears that glistened in her eyes.
“I’m not a quitter,” she whispered.
He wanted to shake some sense into her and at the same time kiss her tears away.
“With or without your help, I’ll be back here tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that to practice dismounting.”
“And then what? Just because you learn to fall off a bull the right way doesn’t mean there aren’t a hundred other ways you could bust your head open.” One good jerk by a bull could shove Lucy far enough forward that her face collided with the bull’s horn, knocking her out cold.
The scene played out in Tony’s mind and his stomach roiled as he envisioned Lucy unconscious and unable to scramble out of the way of the bull’s hooves.
“Whether you help me or not, I’m riding in Ajo. Shannon got Wrangler on board and they’ve agreed to match every pledge I receive for all the rodeos, dollar for dollar. I can’t walk away from that kind of money.”
“How much have you raised so far?”
Her chin jutted. “The website went up a few days ago and already I’ve gotten three-thousand dollars in pledges—that’s six if you count Wrangler’s contribution.”
Tony shook his head. Some people were just plain loco.
“Most of the pledges are coming from rodeo cowboys. Shannon’s been a huge help in spreading the word at her events.”
Lucy had to survive the first rodeo for there to be a second and a third. “You have the money angle all figured out, don’t you?” Now it was up to him to figure out how to keep her alive. He left the barn, but slowed down when he noticed Lucy limping on her sore ankle.
“Before we head out to Carmen’s to see Nina, we’re making a pit stop at a friend’s,” he said when they reached their trucks.
“Which friend?”
If Lucy was determined to ride fourteen days from now, her body needed all the help it could get healing. “Her name’s Evita. She’s a massage therapist.”
“She better be cheap, because I’ve only got twenty bucks on me.”
“Don’t worry,” Tony said. “Evita owes me a few favors.”
Lucy shut the door in Tony’s face, preferring not to think about what Tony had done to earn favors from a woman named Evita.
Chapter Nine
Evita owes me a few favors…
A pang of jealousy gripped Lucy as she waited for Tony to get into his truck and leave Five Star Ranch. She had no claim on him. They’d once been lovers, but fate had intervened and they weren’t the same people anymore. She yearned for the chance to pick up where they’d left off as a couple, but her actions the night Michael had died made second chances impossible.
Lucy gave the black Dodge a head start so the dust from the tires didn’t obscure the road in front of her.
He kissed you at Five Star Ranch.
There was no denying that the chemistry between her and Tony hadn’t faded one iota over the past two years. It was as real and forbidden as Romeo and Juliet’s. And just as doomed.
Admittedly Lucy was curious about Evita. Tony wasn’t the kind of man to cheat, and he wouldn’t have kissed Lucy if he’d been in a committed relationship.
The sun had dipped low in the sky by the time they parked at a strip mall near downtown Yuma. Magic Hands was etched into the dark glass door of one of the units. Lucy had assumed a massage would be a waste of time, but changed her mind when she got out of the truck and took her first step—her thighs and lower back screamed in pain.
Tony grinned.
Bent over like an old woman, she muttered, “Go ahead. Say I told you so.”
“Told you so.” He chuckled. “I phoned Evita on the way here. She’s expecting us.” He grasped Lucy’s elbow and escorted her to the door. “Evita’s got amazing hands. You’ll feel good as new in no time.”
Needing to block out the image of Evita using her amazing hands on Tony, Lucy focused on her discomfort. Good Lord, she hoped she wouldn’t be this sore tomorrow when she got out of bed. The massage parlor was cool and tranquil, and the melodious sounds of Native American flute music and the scent of lavender eased some of her tension.
