Page 19 of Roping the Rodeo Queen
"Thanks, darlin'," I reply, pulling her closer and relishing the way Sterling's jaw tightens."Your turn to celebrate.That record's gonna be tough to beat."
"Speaking of beating things," Brock turns to face me directly."Don't expect your scores today to be repeated.This was a fluke, McKendrick."
I shrug off his taunts."How 'bout I buy you a beer, Brock?No hard feelings."
His nostrils flare just like the bull I rode a few minutes ago.But he says nothing.Only glares at me.After a few seconds, Brock stalks off in the other direction.
"You're the king of the cowboys, Clay McKendrick," Jo says loud enough for Sterling to hear it while he walks away."You were amazing, and I'm so proud of you."
"Thanks, darlin'," I tug her closer and plant a firm kiss on her lips.
Is it my imagination, or has Jo been acting like she genuinely wants to be my fiancée?No time to ask her about that, though.It's time for bronc riding, one of my favorite events.
"Yee-hah!"Buck almost screeches."Are you ready for more, ladies and gents?First up, Clay McKendrick, riding Black Thunder!"
A hush falls over the arena as I settle into the chute, and the crowd waits in anticipation.The silence is electric.The bronc beneath me, Blackout, is all coiled energy and attitude, his muscles twitching as if he can't wait to fly out of the chute either.This is what I live for---the moment right before the gate opens when everything else fades away except the horse and the clock.
"Show 'em what Montana boys are made of!"Jo calls out from the rail, and I catch her eye just long enough to see her cross her fingers.The gesture is so endearingly superstitious that I can't help but grin.
I adjust my grip on Blackout's rein, feeling the familiar weight of the horse between my legs.Black Thunder shifts restlessly, and I can tell he's going to be a handful.Good.I've never been one to back down from a challenge.
"Ready when you are, cowboy," the gate man says.
I nod once."Let 'er rip."
The gate swings open and the bronc explodes from the chute like he's been shot from a cannon.His first jump nearly sends me sailing over his head, but I recover, and my body finds a rhythm that comes from years of practice and more than a few hard landings.Blackout twists beneath me, his powerful hindquarters launching skyward in a move that has unseated better cowboys than me.I lean back, countering his momentum, my spurs marking the point of each jump as required.This ain't my first rodeo, and Black Thunder seems determined to make me earn every second.
The crowd's roar fades to white noise as I focus entirely on staying centered.Four seconds in, and the bastard changes tactics, spinning hard to the left before launching into a series of stiff-legged jumps that rattle my teeth.My free arm pumps for balance as I spur forward on each jump, keeping time with his rhythm.Six seconds down, two to go.
Black Thunder saves the best for last, executing a perfect sunfish that would make a rodeo photographer weep with joy.His body arcs through the air like a crescent moon, and for a heart-stopping moment I'm damn near vertical, clinging to nothing but leather and determination.
The buzzer sounds just as I feel my grip starting to slip.Eight seconds.I bail off to the left, hitting the dirt with a satisfying thud as the pickup men corral Black Thunder away from the action.
"Eighty-nine point five!"Buck hollers as the scores flash on the board."That puts Clay McKendrick in first place in both bull riding and saddle bronc!"
The crowd goes wild as Jo blows kisses to me from the stands.
Fake relationship my ass.
Chapter Eleven
Past Shadows
Once the bronc and bull riding events are over, I get excited by something I never expected would interest me---ladies breakaway roping.Jo is participating in that event, so of course, I'll be watching from the stands and cheering for my fiancée.Fake fiancée, Jo would remind me.Whether she still believes that, I can't say.
I settle into my seat, adjusting my hat to shield my eyes from the sun beating down on the stands.The crowd around me buzzes with excitement, but my focus narrows to the chute where Jo is getting ready.She's checking her rope with practiced precision, her movements fluid and confident with that laser-focused look she gets before competing.
"Up next," Buck announces, his voice carrying that special enthusiasm he reserves for events he particularly enjoys, "it's ladies breakaway roping with our first contestant---Jolene Callahan!"
Jo nods to the gate operator, her body coiled like a tight spring as she waits for her moment.When the gate flies open, she springs into action, her horse behaving like the mare is an extension of her own body.The calf bounding ahead while and Jo's rope is already spinning in a perfect circle above her head, the motion so smooth that it seems effortless.
I lean forward in my seat, gripping the metal bench until my knuckles turn white.Watching Jo work mesmerizes me.She's graceful and powerful, every movement executed with absolute precision.She has it all, rolled into one hell of a package.The rope flies true, settling around the calf's neck.Jo's horse plants her feet, and the breakaway string does its job, the rope releasing from her saddle horn as designed.Clean catch, perfect form.
"Time!"the judge calls out.
Buck's voice crackles over the speakers."Two-point-eight seconds for Jolene Callahan!Ladies and gentlemen, that's yet another arena record for our favorite lady!"
The crowd goes wild again, their cheers reverberating throughout the arena.I'm on my feet before I realize what I'm doing, waving my hat in the air, hollering and whooping like I've just won the lottery.Watching Jo set another arena record feels like hitting the jackpot, for sure.That woman takes my breath away every time I see her in action.
