“Thank you.” She took a seat at the end of the long table. “If there’s anything I can help with, feel free to put me to work.”
“No need. I’ve got a couple helpers coming. You just enjoy the show.”
Excitement rose in the arena as the noise from the increasing crowd grew. The bleachers were full. A bright array of western wear and cowboy hats dotted the stands. She noticed the schedule posted on the glass partition. Adam was riding seventh.
That’s lucky, right?
He’d drawn a bull named No-Frills Freak, who weighed in at 1,994 pounds.
Although some sporting events had put a big pause on the national anthem and color guard, there was no such behavior in Archdale, North Carolina, that night. The national anthem was sung by a young lady while another girl dressed in red, white, and blue carried the American flag as she rode a white horse through the arena under a spotlight.
“…and the home of the brave.”
The crowd screamed and applauded.
The announcer welcomed everyone again and said the Cowboy’s Prayer. Who knew there was even such a thing? She’d never heard of that. Curious, she listened intently. The announcer’s deep voice and Southern twang came over the speaker loud and clear. “Our heavenly Father, we pause at this time, mindful of the many blessings You have bestowed upon us. We ask, Lord, that You will be with us in the arena of life.”
The truth and sincerity in those words sent a chill through her. It might be a crazy sport, but being around these people—there was something more like family than she’d ever felt before.
“Amen.”
An amen rose from the stands.
Not even thirty seconds after that, the first chute gate swung open for a twenty-three-year-old from Advance, NorthCarolina. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be advancing tonight, because by the time the clock got to 4.1, that guy was on his hind parts in the dirt.
“No score,” the announcer said over the speakers. “Everyone, give this cowboy a big round of applause, because that’s all he’s going home with tonight.”
The cowboy picked up his rope and slinked out the gate.
The next rider didn’t even make it past the chute before he self-ejected from his bull, and the third one didn’t do much better.
Finally, the fourth rider, wearing a vest with sponsor patches and flashy chaps, dropped down on a big black-and-white bull in the last chute on the far side of the arena. The bull jumped, clanging the gates so loudly that Merry Anna wondered if he might break free. Thoughts of a bull running through the stands worried her. There were so many people that it would be hard to escape.
But nothing like that happened. The bull finally seemed to settle down. It was then that she noticed Adam at the top of the chute helping the rider get set, pulling the rope and nodding. The rider put his hand in the air and gave a nod. The gate flew open, and loud rock-and-roll music pumped through the arena.
There wasn’t anything settled or calm about the animal that catapulted out of that gate. He vaulted straight up into the air, all four of his legs at least three feet off the ground, his body twisting, coming down so hard that the man tied to his waist flung like a rag doll.
The power forced a sound from Merry Anna. She covered her mouth and nose with her hands. The bullfighters were already closing in, making sure the rider wasn’t in trouble. The bull gave one big buck, then sort of moved in onedirection, hopping and stopping. Somehow that guy stayed on the whole eight seconds, but it wasn’t pretty.
When it was Adam’s turn to ride, the announcer made a big deal of it, mentioning all his buckles and previous wins and his golden path to the PBR this year.
Merry Anna held her breath.Please keep him safe through this ride.
TheRockytheme song played as Adam got down on the bull, and the guys pulled his rope tight.
Merry Anna took a slug of her water, trying to swallow.
She glanced up, and the chute slammed open. The song switched, which only seemed to amp up the crowd and that bull. As if in slow motion, she watched every twitch, hop, buck, and spin, in awe of the strength of the snarling, drooling animal. Adam had his chin tucked, arm up in the air, and legs spurring as the bull spun in circles as if they were in some twisted ballet. Each time Adam’s spur connected with No-Frills Freak, Merry Anna sucked in another breath.
The buzzer sounded, but for a moment, Adam remained in place, his hand still there on the back of the bull. She heard one of the bullfighters yell the wordshung up.
The other bullfighter raced in front of the bull, waving his arms, as another cowboy ran in to assist Adam. It seemed as if it took only one tug before Adam leaped from the back of the bull, sticking the landing in a squatted position. At least he landed on his feet.
Everyone in the whole place stood and cheered wildly.
She jumped up, clapping.
“Adam Locklear scores a 91!”
