Page 51 of Catch Me, Cowboy
“I know what you’re thinking, folks,” the announcer said in a conspiratorial tone. “But the barrier was not breached. The time is good and we have new leaders—Wyatt Marshall and Shelby O’Connor. May I say, Shelby, that it’s good to see you back in the arena again? And Wyatt… way to pick the prettiest partner here today.”
Ty pushed off the fence as the next team loaded into the box. When was the last time he’d been that concerned over someone else’s performance? Maybe that time Austin had drawn that widow-maker bull that had never been ridden. Odd comparison, but the truth was his heart was still beating a little faster.
The bucking chutes were being loaded with sheep for the mutton busting so Ty headed toward his truck. He’d catch up with Shelby later and congratulate her, but right now he needed to spend some time in his head. He idly rubbed his bad thigh as he walked. The muscles there were as good as they were going to get. Were they good enough?
He had to believe that they were. Had to believe this upcoming ride was his new start.
If he got creamed, what then?
Then he was going to be damned glad he’d chosen a small venue, a place where people knew and liked him, to test the waters. A place where his failure wouldn’t be pasted across online rodeo blogs and news sites.
*
Shelby should havebeen walking on air. She’d conquered the mental block, proved that she was still the roper she’d been prior to blowing things at Nationals.Provedshe could rope in front of a crowd under pressure. As things stood now, she and Wyatt were at number one in the standings. It wasn’t a national title, but hey… she bit her lip to keep from smiling sappily to herself… she hadn’t blown it!
The mutton busting started. The crowd hooted and cheered for the little guys clinging to the backs of sheep, but all Shelby could think about was the event following mutton busting. Saddle bronc.
Was Ty ready?
Was she?
Once upon a time, she’d loved watching him ride. But that was before riding had become her rival. So was that why she was so nervous? Because if he did well, then he’d once again leave Marietta?
After the issues with Gramps yesterday, there was no way Shelby could give up everything and follow Ty on the road—even if he asked her. So that left her exactly where she’d been when he’d asked her to travel with him four years ago. Without any real choice.
She hated it. Hated being wedged in between a rock and a hard place.
So what choice did she have, except to put on a brave face and watch the guy she loved try to conquer his sport all over again?
Maybe that was what love was… doing the thing that was hardest of all to do.
Shelby pressed her lips together and headed toward the crowded stands, spotting a few empty seats up high where the crowd was thinner. She owed it to Ty to watch, to see how this all played out, even though she wanted very much to retreat to her truck and hide out.
“Great run!”
She smiled and bumped fists with the kid at the edge of the aisle, smiling at his family as they chimed in their agreement. Heads turned and people waved. Shelby waved back, glad to have congratulations instead of sympathy, but at the same time wishing very much that she could be alone.
She moved a couple beer cans to the floor and sat on the uppermost row of the bleachers. Truly the nosebleeds. The tractor came into the arena and did a quick pass after the mutton busting and then the announcer encouraged every to get ready for saddle broncs!
The woman in front of Shelby was holding up her program and Shelby caught Ty’s name toward the end before she lowered it again.
Four guys rode and two of them made the whistle. Good rides in the eighties. The stock was better than usual this year.
Just her luck.
And then Ty was on deck. Shelby recognized his hat at chute number five, as they brought in his horse. The horse reared and struck the solid metal divider with a front hoof before going back to all fours and Shelby’s stomach tightened.
Great. His comeback ride, the one where Shelby had hoped against hope he’d get a horse that bucked well enough to give him a score, but not so hard he had fight on his hands.
Heaven help her, she was praying for a horse that would give Ty a mid-level score—high sixties, low seventies. High enough that he didn’t qualify for a re-ride. Yes, she was a traitor, but she was worried about him.
Shelby swallowed and focused on the chute, where the horse had finally quieted. She saw Ty’s hat as he mounted once again and then, before she was ready, the gate swung open and the bay mare exploded out into the arena.
It had to be a little one.
Small horses could be harder to ride than the bigger animals. They were more agile and, as was true of this particular mare, able to change things up rapidly. She bucked, spun, and twisted, making it difficult for Ty to get his rhythm, but somehow he did, answering everything that little mare threw at him and then toward the end of his ride, he pulled off his hat and fanned her.
Damn it, Ty.
