The Wildest Ride--A Novel

by Marcella Bell

  Once again, the thousands of beads caught the light—yellows, oranges, and reds making up the sun while different shades of brown and gold brought the buffalo to almost three-dimensional life. Every time Lil Sorrow turned in her pacing, the beads caught the light and flashed, possibly accounting for some of the space around her. If being the only woman on deck wasn’t enough, her vests set her apart.

  Outside of her bubble, cowboys, VIPs, coaches, and fans pressed to be as close to the action as they could.

  AJ stepped into her space.

  She stopped midpace and looked up, her thick eyebrows drawn straight over her eyes.

  “Scared?” he asked.

  Her frown deepened, but there was a kick in her low voice when she spoke. “Just scared I might embarrass you. My folks taught me to respect my elders, and I just don’t know what to do when I beat you.”

  AJ grinned lazily. “Nice comeback, but you’ve got to look less serious about it all.”

  The corner of her lips lifted, just a little, and AJ was satisfied.

  “Stop showing your feelings on your face, though,” AJ added, unable to help himself from giving advice. “They’ll use it against you.”

  A single eyebrow lifted. “They?”

  “Your competition.”

  “You mean you,” she reminded him.

  AJ raised his palms. “I’m just trying to help you. You might not be a kid, but you’re sure as hell new around here.”

  “Why do you want to help me?”

  AJ wondered that himself. The woman in front of him was cranky, small, and hotheaded, and it’d be a damn sight easier to give her a wide berth than it was to offer her a hand.

  But she also smelled like the future of rodeo. And vanilla.

  “You’ve got something special,” he said.

  Her mouth dropped open, eyes going wide with shock.

  AJ laughed. “Don’t let it get to your head. You’ve still got to ride tonight.”

  Her eyes narrowed again. Suspicion written all over her face, she said, “This is you trying to get in my head.”

  AJ shrugged with a grin. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just an old man feeling sentimental on the brink of retirement.” Then he stepped out of her pacing space.

  But she was intrigued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugged. “I got nothing to lose.”

  Lil Sorrow shot back, “Except this competition.” But a smile stretched across her face.

  It was exactly what he’d come over for, though he hadn’t realized it had been his intention until now.

  And then she was up.

  AJ watched from above the chute. As usual, she looked even smaller on a horse. AJ frowned. If she was going to ride rough stock, she needed some protein shakes or something.

  The steer shot out of the barrier.

  The hazer and Lil Sorrow flew out after it as soon as her rope dropped. Lil Sorrow slid down the right side of her horse and leaped at the steer, kicking her heels as they cleared the stirrups. She hooked the steer around the neck with her right elbow and grabbed the horns lightly with her left hand.

  AJ frowned, watching even as he saddled up for his turn. Lil Sorrow’s grip wasn’t strong enough to force the steer down, momentum or not.

  But then she twisted her body again at the same time as she pushed the steer’s horns upward with her left hand.

  The steer’s entire body gave another spin.

  Beast and cowboy slid to stop in the dirt, steer on its side, all four feet pointing in the same direction. Three-point-one seconds had passed. Once again, the arena erupted with cheers for Lil Sorrow.

  AJ had never seen the little twist move before, and he’d been to a lot of rodeos. The kid had opened the night with flair.

  As the second-place contestant, AJ was up next. He didn’t have any fancy new moves to showcase. He was fortunate enough to rely on the old-fashioned way—brute strength.

  Once Lil Sorrow had cleared the arena, everything reset to do it all over again—this time with him at center stage.

  His steer shot out. He and his hazer followed when the barrier dropped. He took his steer down in classic fashion: right hook and left push. And he didn’t know if it was the adrenaline of having real competition for the first time in years, or simply the thrill of watching her in action, but he got it done in three seconds.

  11

  AJ left the arena momentarily deaf and headed straight for the green room. Lil Sorrow was already in the room when he got there, of course, sitting at the end of the table by herself.

  AJ grabbed a water out of the fridge and then walked over to lean against the counter near where she sat.

  “Weird move out there.”

  She grunted.

  “Made up for your size alright.”

  Dry and raspy, she replied, “It’s almost like I planned it.”

  AJ tipped his water to her with a chuckle. “Ready for the next round?”

  She nodded once. “You don’t usually get a hazer on a ranch.”

  Touchy. The short ones always were. “I almost bought a ranch once,” he said wistfully.

  She stiffened, but forced a smile. “What stopped you?”

  He grinned. “No hazers on a ranch.”

  She snorted at the same time as the door slammed open and Hank DeRoy stalked in. Without taking note of the room’s occupants, he tossed his hat on a table, ran a hand through his hair, and went straight to the fridge, from which he pulled out a beer and shotgunned it.

  Only then, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, did he finally look around the room. AJ and Lil Sorrow were stationed at one end of the counter. Both looked at him—AJ leaning back and grinning, amused at the fool’s constant obviousness, Lil Sorrow, upright and inscrutable. Neither said a word.

  Hank looked from him to Lil Sorrow, then back to him, a frown coming to mar his sweaty blond brow. Slowly, he straightened and retrieved his hat before putting his can in the recycling bin. Hat in place, he strolled over with an exaggerated cowboy swagger.

  “Didn’t mean to interrupt your make-out session,” he said cheerfully to both of them before angling his body toward Lil Sorrow’s. “If you ever feel like graduating to a real man, cowgirl, you can always give me a try.”

  AJ’s voice was warm when he responded, like he was talking to an old friend, despite the fact that Hank’s crude words had his hackles rising: “Bad run, DeRoy?”

  In a way they were old friends.

  They’d known each other long enough for AJ to realize the sharp tang in Hank’s voice meant he had been beat.

  “Never heard of such a thing, Garza. And I believe the lady and I were chatting.”

  Lil Sorrow pushed between the two, moving away from both.

  AJ frowned. Hank turned his attention to Lil Sorrow.

  “The lady was just on her way,” she said as she passed.

  “Now hold on, we’re just getting to know each other. It isn’t often you meet a woman who makes you envious of livestock.”

  Based on his experience with her, AJ expected Lil Sorrow to lose her temper with the man’s forwardness. He was closer to it, himself, than he’d like to admit. But, to AJ’s surprise, Lil Sorrow didn’t rise to the bait. If anything, she looked bored.

  Shrugging lightly, she said, “Nor is it often that you meet men who make you envious of feedlot stock, but as they say, ‘there are more things in heaven and earth...’” She turned to AJ. “Trust your horse and focus on the steer, Garza.”

  AJ laughed, the reaction more genuine than his typical show of laid-backness. Lil Sorrow tipped her hat to punctuate the insult and walked out without looking back, beaded vest twinkling in the light.

  Hank whistled as he watched her leave, hollering after her, “You can throw a punch as well as you rope a steer, princess. But I’l
l keep coming back for more—I just love beating a man killer.”

  “As always, DeRoy. You’re out of your league.” AJ finished his water and tossed it in the plastic bin.

  “Watch it, Garza... We might be peers in the arena, but outside, you’re not just outmanned, you’re outclassed.” It was a well-known fact that Hank came from Kentucky horse royalty, the cowboy with the silver spoon to go with all his shiny silver buckles. Rodeo traditionally didn’t have much room for rich boys, but Hank fancied himself a Southern gentleman and apparently that was a kind of fancy rodeo folk would accept. But only because, lagging behind AJ aside, Hank knew his way around a bull.

  Sighing dramatically, AJ said, “A man can only watch the same old thing—be it my name climbing higher and higher than yours in the standings or your terrible game—for so long, DeRoy.”

  But instead of another threat, Hank smiled, instantly putting AJ’s senses on alert.

  “But not quite number one, this time. How’s that feel?”

  The words struck closer than Hank usually managed, but AJ wasn’t about to let it show, or answer the other man’s question. Instead, he brought his finger and thumb to his face, an imitation of The Thinker, saying, “And, since you’re always behind me, that makes you third, right?”

  Hank flipped him off and AJ grinned.

  The intercom in the room crackled and a young voice gave the twenty-minute warning, followed by the jangle of a phone hanging up.

  “There’s our call.” AJ grinned. “Better get your head in the game, DeRoy. Time’s running out.”

  “Eat a dick, Garza.”

  Taking the old-timey cowboy cue from Lil Sorrow, AJ tipped his hat with a wide grin on his face and headed back to the arena, leaving Hank in the room.

  The grin didn’t last.

  It took AJ twice as long to wrestle his steer without a hazer.

  Each and every other cowboy took three times their average—except Lil Sorrow. She’d lost only a second and a half on her time, and that looked like it had more to do with her steer reacting to the crowd than the lack of a hazer.

  Either way, he was feeling a lot less chatty when he entered the contestant’s room after the second round. Fortunately, he didn’t need to worry. The only people in the room were a couple greenies and one of the bottom twenty-fivers. The bottom twenty-five cowboys would be cut in the first elimination round, after the challenge.

  Barring some dramatic turn of luck, the young man wasn’t going much farther than Ardmore.

  Which meant there was no need to make conversation, a fact that suited AJ’s mood just fine.

  Instead, he replayed the scene from the arena in his mind.

  Steers, it turned out, were smarter than folks gave them credit for. More than he’d given them credit for, at least.

  It had been Lil Sorrow’s voice in his head that’d finally sorted him out enough to get the thing done.

  After trying everything else, AJ had focused on the steer and let his body naturally follow it. The horse followed the natural lean of his body and suddenly he was where he needed to be. The steer was where it needed to be an instant later.

  He’d thank her later, though, after he secured a win. There were two more rounds to go before he had it for tonight, though.

  Tie-down roping followed the intermission. One round with a single calf and one picking out a single marked calf out of a panicked group of ten.

  He didn’t expect to set any new world records in classic tie-down roping, but he knew he’d give Lil Sorrow a run for her money.

  Catching a calf in a bunch was going to take longer, but it was essentially the same skill set.

  However, an hour and a half later, AJ was back in the contestant’s lounge, no closer to beating Lil Sorrow out of the number one spot.

  Watching the woman in action with a rope was like an evening at the symphony. When you tossed in a horse and calf, it was a goddamn Vegas show.

  She was like a centaur, or at the very least an ancient steppe warrior on top of a horse before she leaped off for her prey.

  Thus far, AJ was one for three, and the final event of the night wasn’t one that inspired confidence.

  His odds weren’t great, considering the last event was another ranch simulation and the woman’s day job was ranching. His shoulder burned at the thought, but AJ refused to give the sensation space. The night wasn’t over yet and neither was the challenge.

  As if summoned by his thoughts, Lil Sorrow entered the room and AJ sat up straighter.

  Both of them seemed surprised when she said, “Nice job out there.”

  AJ recovered first with an easy smile. “Feeling friendly, now that your lead is secure?” he teased.

  She laughed. “No. Must be all the excitement going to my head.” She tossed AJ a water bottle and watched him open it. After AJ took a swig, she said, “Focus on your mark and push out farther left than you think you need to. It’ll keep the other calves out of the way and give you more space.”

  AJ took another swig of water before he asked, “And why would you help me?”

  Lil Sorrow shrugged. “Don’t want to see an old man embarrassed.”

  AJ’s laugh lifted some of the tightness in his shoulders. It’d already been a long night. “With how quick you are to make me look like a fool? What’s the real reason? I know you want to win.”

  A light dusky rose blossomed on her cheeks, and she looked away before grumbling, “I sure do, but when I beat the world’s greatest rodeo cowboy, I want to be sure that it’s because of skill and not ignorance. It doesn’t mean anything if it only happened ’cause you didn’t know.”

  He snorted. He should have known she’d say something like that. Ms. Solitary Cowboy would never admit to helping the enemy for the simple fact that they were becoming friends.

  “Fair enough, Lil Sorrow. Thanks for the tip.”

  She turned back to him with a smile, her gray eyes warming to sparkling crescent moons above her grinning cheeks, and AJ’s heart stopped. It was like a mini sun had risen in the room, bright and fully capable of energizing the cosmos.

  “No problem,” she said, adding, “and call me Lil.”

  But she was wrong. It was a problem, a series of them, in fact, and not insignificant. It was an unforgettable kiss, an incredible talent, and a galaxy-charging smile.

  After AJ didn’t say anything, Lil shrugged, and on her way out, smile wavering, said, “Anyway. Good luck out there,” on her way out.

  AJ stayed where he was. The final event of the night was less than thirty minutes away. He didn’t have the time to be laid to waste by a smile.

  But there he was.

  12

  AJ’s first moments in the arena with the calves were chaos—but, once again, Lil had been right.

  AJ’s calf had been marked with a strip of blue paint on its flank, a color that turned out to be far harder to track amongst the panicked calves than he would have guessed. Creating the extra space on the left kept the others away and made it a whole lot easier to rope his mark.

  But not easy enough to beat Lil’s time.

  The next day, the novelty of waking up in second place was starting to wear off.

  Unfortunately, his next opportunity to change things involved catching wild mustangs.

  Having never encountered a wild mustang in real life, AJ was at a disadvantage. He knew how to rope, and at its core, the whole thing was just more rope work, but AJ knew better than to think that was how it would go.

  As always, a small pod of greenies bustled around the RVs, running errands, taking pictures, and stocking mini fridges. AJ felt bad for those on snack duty. They had to go inside the bullpens, as the multibunk vehicles had started to be called. Just being downwind was enough to knock you over.

  It was just too small a space for that many grown men...

 
Once again, AJ appreciated the spacious, pleasant-smelling accommodations of the top tier. He tilted back in one of his plush leather seats and stretched out his legs. He wore a white T-shirt, gray sweats, and a backward baseball hat. The ensemble had been his basic at-home attire since he was ten years old.

  Why change what worked?

  He was tempted to look out the window to see if Lil’s blinds were open. He bet the woman probably relaxed in full rodeo gear—if she even knew how to relax. He honestly wasn’t sure.

  But, knowing Lil, she probably skipped the usual routine of coffee and instead wrestled with mustangs for breakfast.

  AJ snorted. She was a real cowboy, that one.

  Jokes aside, though, it was never a good idea to ignore a resource when one had one, and he was going to need more help.

  He slipped on a pair of shoes and headed next door.

  Lil opened after the first knock, but not all the way.

  Just as AJ’d imagined, the woman was dressed full cowboy: Wranglers, black button-up, black hat, black books, big buckle.

  AJ smirked.

  Lil’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  AJ said, “Now what kind of welcome is that?” He laid the Texas on thick, enjoying the way it brought a frown to Lil’s face. AJ felt an almost moral obligation to break her of her habit of taking everything too seriously.

  Lil muttered, “Better than you deserve. What do you want?”

  AJ wouldn’t have been surprised to hear a humph at the end. She reminded him of his grandmother—old, and cranky about it. So, just like he did with granny, he smiled sweetly. “Had a few questions about mustangs,” he said. Smiles always worked on his granny.

  They worked on Lil, too. Her shoulders relaxed and she opened the door all the way, even if she didn’t stop frowning. “Don’t have much time, but sure.”

  AJ waited a beat until it was clear Lil wasn’t going to invite him in. Then he said, “Any suggestions? Never dealt with wild horses.”