by Jane Jamison
The only bad thing about all of them going to the national finals was that only one of them could wind up in first place. As far as Jarrod was concerned, he was determined to be number one.
“I’m headed to the finals. But don’t worry, Mitch, I’ll do my best to get a pair of tickets for you and Seth. That’s the least I can do.”
“Fuck you.” Mitch chuckled, lessening the slam. “You’re riding Sidewinder next. He still hasn’t been ridden. Try not to break your neck, okay? I wouldn’t want to make it into the top fifteen over your broken body.”
“Oh, I’ll get a good ride. Eight seconds and longer.” He sniffed the air. “Yep. I smell another win in the air.”
He was still riding high from winning the team roping event with Seth. Nothing did a man’s ego more good than a rodeo win. Unless, of course, it was the love of a good woman.
“The love of a good woman.”
His father had said those same words often enough, talking about his mother. Funny. He hadn’t thought about finding one woman to settle down with in a long time. Not since Elizabeth.
“Where’s Seth? He’s the one who needs to haul your crushed body out of the ring. I’m not risking my hide to do it. Not with Sidewinder going on a killing spree.”
“He’s around. Probably chasing some girl in tight jeans.” An image of how Amy had looked in her jeans, all round and perfect for a man’s hands—his hands—struck him in the gut.
He shoved the thought away. Instead of thinking about a girl, even one like Amy, he should be concentrating on the hellacious ride he was about to face.
Sidewinder was one of those few bulls who had a major reputation. A reputation earned by not letting any cowboy sit on him for the full eight-second ride. Less than eight seconds meant no score. Getting no score could spell an end to his journey to the finals. If he didn’t take Sidewinder all the way, he’d have to add more rodeos to his calendar to make up the loss of winnings. More money earned meant a higher place in the rankings. He had to make the top fifteen this year.
Unlike some riders who’d rather take it easy with an average bull—not an infamous one—he wanted to ride the best of the best. The toughest of the tough. And that was Sidewinder.
Sidewinder was a huge black bull, a full two thousand pounds of controlled spinning and bucking. The bull was considered a beast when it came to throwing cowboys, then trying its best to trample them. Most bulls came out of the gate the same way every time. Riders studied a bull, learning the way it liked to move. But Sidewinder was different, unpredictable. Some said the animal had an evil mind, that he was smarter and meaner than any other bull. Smarter even than his riders. Sidewinder was a tornado on hooves, but Jarrod wasn’t worried. When—not if—he stayed on for the whole time, he’d rack up major points and give a boost to his own reputation. He’d become the Cowboy Who’d Ridden Sidewinder. Earning such a rep would be almost as good as earning his way to the American Finals Rodeo. With a full ride on the bull, he could start planning his trip to the finals.
“He’ll probably catch her, too.”
“Huh?”
Mitch gave him a curious look. “Seth getting the girl.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Better get your head in the game, man. It’s time.”
The thrill that always came to him fired him up. The crowd near the chute broke apart and let him through. He pulled himself up the fence then took a moment to watch the bull.
He’s a tricky bastard.
Sidewinder acted like he was half-asleep. No moving, no bellowing, no pawing the earth. Just standing there like he was most docile creature on the face of the planet. Like some overgrown dog. But Jarrod knew better. Sidewinder’s behavior was the calm before the storm. Yet, other than knowing the bull would do something unexpected, he was just like all the other riders who’d tried to ride him. He was going in blind.
Jim Crossen, another friend on the circuit and one of a group of men who had formed an unofficial brotherhood, motioned for him to get moving. Jim helped out whenever he wasn’t busy doing his own events. He rarely won, but he was a good sport and everyone liked him. Jim limped over to the gate, having landed in a bad way after getting his ass thrown off a bronc. That bad landing had jacked up his leg, forcing him to pull out of any further rodeos. But nothing kept Jim down for long.
“Ready, Jarrod?”
“Yep. Let’s do this.” Taking his time and letting the others bend over the chute to handle the bull, Jarrod took hold of the railing, then eased one leg over the bull’s back. Taking hold of the rope and placing the palm of his hand toward his stomach, he waited until Jim had taken out the slack, then wrapped the rope around his hand. Once he was secure, he settled his body on top of the bull and eased up so that he was almost sitting on his hand. He leaned forward, putting his chest over the bull’s shoulders. Positioning his body the right way was crucial to having a good ride.
Sidewinder trembled against his legs. The animal wasn’t afraid. Instead, the bull was anticipating the ride as much as he was. Jarrod never felt more alive than during those few seconds before the bell whistled and the gate opened.
“Take it easy. Keep control of the free arm. Stay on,” he whispered.
The simple mantra, one he’d started when he was first learning to ride, repeated in his head. He knew it by heart, but just saying the words had a steadying effect on him.
He nodded, giving the cue that he was ready to ride. He drew in a breath just as the chute’s gate flew open.
Sidewinder, so calm before, burst out of the chute like a hurricane roaring onto land. When Jarrod expected him to go right, he went left. When he thought he’d buck, he spun. The only thing he could do was let his instinct take over and hang on.
Sidewinder bellowed his frustration that he hadn’t gotten Jarrod off already. Then, with a combination buck and twisting move, the bull lurched, his top half wrenching one way, while his rump went the other way.
Jarrod felt his body leave the bull’s back. His hat went flying off his head. In that moment, he knew it was all over. He landed hard on one foot, the momentum of his body sending him rolling over the ground. The air was knocked out of him, but he didn’t stop. If he stayed down too long, Sidewinder would do his best to trample him into the dirt.
He cursed and came up on his feet, aided by one of the clowns. The rodeo clown was every rider’s best friend, often putting his life in danger to keep a cowboy from getting run through with a bull’s razor-sharp horns.
A push sent him toward the fence. He got his feet under him, grabbed hold of the top railing, and threw his body over the railing. Sidewinder rammed his left shoulder against the fence. The damn animal had tried to get to him and had gotten too close for comfort.
“You okay?”
Mitch grabbed his arm and steadied him.
“Fuck, no, I’m not all right. What was my time?” He knew the answer to his question before he turned to look at the electronic clock hanging high in the arena. What he saw tore his gut apart.
Seven seconds.
Seven fucking, no-good seconds.
One second more and he would’ve gotten the points and been the first man to ride the notorious bull.
“Shit.” Mitch turned him loose. “But hell, man. You’re the closest anyone’s ever gotten.”
He shouldn’t take it out on Mitch, but he couldn’t hold back. Mitch would understand. “Closest? Fuck that. Closest doesn’t mean a damn thing.”
In seven lousy seconds, he’d not only failed to ride Sidewinder, but he’d lost the bull riding event. And the prize money that would’ve been added to his overall earnings. Angrily, he snatched his hat away from the clown who’d retrieved it, then shoved it on his head. The sooner he got out of Selena and back to Rolling Hills Ranch, the better. Yet he knew it’d be a while before he’d be able to forget.
Damn, bull.
* * * *
Seth couldn’t figure Amy out. Although he’d hated missing his brother’s ride on the
infamous bull, he couldn’t keep from following Amy and Jesse. She’d acted…off. Was she hiding from a man? A boyfriend? Or, worse, a husband? Yet the way she kept track of Jesse made him think her problem had something to do with her brother. He liked to think he was a good judge of women, especially when they were hiding something. Right now, his radar was going off full blast.
He’d stayed close behind them, ducking behind a horse or turning his back to blend in with the rest of the crowd. More than once, he was sure she was going to bust him, but then she’d keep walking and he’d get on her tail again.
He was also close enough to hear Jesse’s bellyaching. Her brother wasn’t young enough to be acting like a damn kid. Someone needed to straighten him up.
But why was Amy so nervous? She was constantly looking around and acting like a monster was about to jump out from between all the people and tear her head off. Her actions even started making him paranoid. He searched the crowd, hoping to spot whatever had her on edge, but he never found anything even remotely threatening.
Following her wasn’t a bad deal, anyway. Not when he could watch her pretty ass swaying back and forth. She wasn’t the tallest or the skinniest girl he’d ever met. And he had to admit she wasn’t the prettiest, either. At least, not the way most of society would’ve judged her. But Amy was different. Special. Just the light in her blue eyes when she’d looked at him had taken his gut and twisted it into a pretzel. Since the parking lot, she’d pulled her hair into a ponytail and he liked watching it bounce side to side with each step. He found himself wishing they were kids in school and he could grab her jaunty ponytail from behind and tug it. Then he’d get to see her eyes sparkle with irritation.
And, if he was lucky, a glint of desire.
He stopped, pivoted around again, and then melted into the crowd. That was a close one, but she hadn’t noticed him. Waiting just long enough to give her a little lead time, he started after her again.
“Seth, honey!”
He ducked, trying to hide, but it was impossible. Willa Jenkins, one of the girls who followed the circuit, a total buckle bunny, wrapped him in a huge embrace.
“Seth, I’m so glad you’re here!”
Did she have to be so damn loud? He cringed, saw Amy again turn around, and did the only thing he could. He picked Willa up off her feet and spun her around, putting his back to Amy. Willa squealed, forcing him to shut the racket off with a quick kiss.
The buxom blonde’s excited squeak turned into a pleasured moan. He held her close, then slowly turned her around and peeked one eye open.
Damn it.
Amy was gone.
Chapter Three
“Can we get out of here now?”
Amy weaved her way through the crowd, munching on the corn dog and trying to ignore Jesse. So far, she’d enjoyed their time at the rodeo. As much as a person could while hiding out. She’d loved watching the Hill brothers in the team roping event. She’d whooped and hollered for them, cheering them on, but during the entire time, she’d been nervous for them, too. What if they fell off their horses? What if they broke their necks? Still, she’d wanted to stay and see if they were going to ride the bulls. Yet after making a spectacle of herself, it hadn’t been safe. Bringing any kind of attention to them wasn’t a good idea.
Why would anyone want to ride a bull, anyway? They were bound to get thrown off. Maybe even kicked in the head. Or in the balls. Or both. Her fingernails would’ve been bitten down to the quick if she’d watched them.
If only Jesse would stop his constant whining. Granted, he was tense, but so was she. She tried not to act like it, yet although she felt fairly safe surrounded by all the handsome cowboys, her own nerves were jumping like crazy.
Would Jarrod and Seth help her again if she ran into trouble? Provided they were even around to do so? Strange, though, a couple of times when she’d checked behind them, she would’ve sworn she’d seen Seth. When she looked closer, he was gone, vanished into the sea of jeans, boots, and hats. She would’ve sworn she’d even heard a woman calling his name.
It figured. Seth Hill was the type of man a lot of women would like to call their own. And Jarrod, too. They were her fantasy men, strong, powerful, and intelligent. With the cowboy thing added on top, they were perfect. She was surprised that a couple of women hadn’t already gotten their hooks in them.
Or had they? She hadn’t noticed either one of them wearing a wedding ring or having a tan line, but that wasn’t a sure sign of their status. Rings probably weren’t the safest things to wear when riding horses or hanging on to a bull. Or maybe they were just didn’t like wearing rings.
Thinking about the Hill brothers’ marital status was a waste of time with the kind of trouble they were in. Because of her brother, she was losing her home, her job, her friends, and maybe, just maybe, the chance to get to know not one, but two incredible cowboys.
If I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.
She pulled Jesse closer, keeping her voice low. “Are you sure about Bandura having friends in the jail? I mean, the best option is to come clean to the cops. They might go easy on you. Plus, they can put you in solitary confinement. They’ll protect you and then you can turn state’s evidence or whatever it’s called. After the trial, they can put you in the Witness Protection Program. If they do, I’ll come along with you. We can get a fresh start.” She took his hand, but he pulled it away. “I’ll stick by you no matter what. You know I will.”
He snatched the rest of her corn dog out of her hand and chowed down on it. “You’re nuts, sis. All the stuff you see in the movies is bullshit. If I go to the cops, I’m dead. If I go to the cops and tell them what I know, then I’m really dead.”
What was the difference between dead and really dead? She didn’t bother trying to understand.
She’d thought about it while watching the team roping event until the Hill brothers had come up for their turn. If they couldn’t go to the police and they couldn’t go back home, then they had only one choice. They’d have to leave town and start their lives over somewhere else. With just the clothes on their backs and what little money she had on her, getting to another town would be hard. Really hard.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” She hated like hell to say the words, much less take the action. Her waitress job wasn’t much, but it paid the bills—barely. Finding another waitress job shouldn’t be too difficult, but until then, they were almost broke. “We’re leaving town.”
“Shit, no. I’ve got friends here. And connections.” He crammed the rest of the corn dog into his mouth.
“Jesse, I swear to God, sometimes I think those drugs have fried your brain. You said yourself that we needed to leave.”
“Yeah, I know, but maybe some of my friends could help me out.”
“You mean the same friends you ran to today? The same friends who have your back like I do? Those aren’t friends. They’re customers. Even if they could help, they’re not going to. Can you see them turning against Bandura?”
His scowl was enough of an answer. She hated hurting him, but it was time he faced up to the severity of their situation.
“Do you think I want to leave? I have real friends. Friends who aren’t using me for drugs. Friends who are good people who aren’t getting chased around town by a drug-dealing gang.”
He’d never been the brightest kid in the class, but he was her brother and she’d do anything she could to help him. Even give up the life she’d made for herself. Still, she couldn’t help but be mad as hell. Why was he always getting into trouble? If she had any sense, she’d stop helping him and let him fend for himself. Wasn’t it time for some tough love?
Incredibly, he didn’t seem to be paying any attention. Not for the first time, she had to wonder if he had a problem focusing.
“This blows. If I wasn’t hanging with my sister, I could hookup in no time.” He did a quick turnaround, checking out a pretty blonde girl.
She yanked him by the
hoodie. He cursed and jerked away from her. “Damn it, Amy. Stop fucking with me.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. The rodeo’s winding down and the parking lot will be emptying out soon. We need to get moving while we still have a crowd to hide in.”
He grumbled all the way to the parking lot. By the time they got back, many of the trucks and horse trailers were gone. She stopped and stared at her car.
Getting on the highway in the same car wasn’t safe. Ruben Bandura and his gang were no doubt still cruising the highway, searching for any sign of them. They needed another way, a safer way to get out of town. But how? She didn’t have time to try and sell the car. And she didn’t have enough money to rent another one. They could hop on a bus, but the idea of waiting in the bus depot made her stomach queasy. She wasn’t sure how smart Bandura was, but he was probably smart enough to have people patrolling the place. They’d be sitting ducks.
The sound of a horse snorting startled her. She studied the dark navy pickup with its long flatbed, two large wheels in the front, and four in the rear. It was a heavy-duty model that could pull the long horse trailer without a problem. She put her foot on the riding board and peered inside the trailer. Although it didn’t have any manure in it, the smell was definitely not pleasant. The chestnut horse lifted its head and put its nuzzle to her palm.
“I’m sure you’re very sweet, but no way am I riding with you.”
“Are you talking to a horse? You have officially lost it, sis.”
She hopped off the trailer. “I’ll bet the horse can think as well as you can. Maybe even better.”
She turned to Marty, her car, and sighed. “I’m sorry as hell to lose you, but I don’t have a choice.” Taking her apartment key off the key ring, she slipped it into her back pocket then popped the car keys through the cracked window. It landed on the driver’s seat. If she was lucky, maybe one day she could go back to her place and pick up some of her things. But the car would get towed not long after the lot emptied out.
