Page 2 of A Montana Rodeo Star

He scoffed. “What about Jacob?”

Brent shook his head. “He’s too close to Hallie. At some point she’d figure it out and then she might tell my parents. I’m not willing to risk it.”

Amused, Tate cocked his head. “So, you’re admitting he is better.”

“Technically speaking, he is a star with a contract and a sponsor… so…” They grinned at each other, then Brent sighed. “There’s a big event at the end of the summer. If I can practice enough over the next several months, then I might have a chance to get some attention. Can you help me?”

Tate’s eyes searched his face as if he’d find the answer to his own questions there. Behind him, Jason had climbed onto the back of the bronco they’d been working with. The animal spun and coiled like a spring before jumping and twirling. Jason took it all in stride, holding on like the pro he was. But Tate didn’t give him any attention. Finally, he sighed. “You’re set on doing this, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“With or without you,” Brent confirmed.

He blew out a breath and gazed up at the bright blue sky. A gentle spring breeze ruffled his hair and he gave a short nod. “Compete tonight. Jason and I will watch. We’ll make our decision after we see what you got.”

Brent could have whooped right there, but he refrained. “Thanks man. See you there.”

Shaking out his hands, Brent shuffled from foot to foot. He’d thought his nerves were bad this morning when he’d asked Tate for help in training him.

Nope. Those nerves were nothing compared to the anxiety plaguing him now. He was about to be called up for his turn and he wasn’t sure how it was going to go. He’d opted for the traditional bronc riding competition rather than the bareback. He figured the familiarity of the saddle would help but he could be wrong. The stirrups were free-swinging, there was no saddle horn, and all he had was a cotton rope to hang onto.

It wasn’t that he was scared of getting hurt. That was the furthest thing from his mind. Honestly, he just wanted to stay in the saddle for the eight seconds. That was the bare minimum.

The cowboy before him got situated in the saddle and held the rope out high. He nodded to the gate operator and the bronco was released.

Cheers in the stands ripped through the air, adding to the surge of tension that filled the stadium. Brent watched his technique, how the cowboy held on, the way he relaxed his muscles, his foot positions, and everything else he could soak in before his own turn came up.

Tate and Jason stood off to the side, arms folded as they took in the current rider as well. They were too far away to hear, but their heads were together as they spoke to one another.

Time to show the Dennison twins what he was made of.

“Number thirty-seven. You’re up.”

Brent nodded and strode toward the chute. He climbed up and into the enclosure and got ready.

“Yo, Brent.”

He lifted his head and found Tate draped over the gate nearby. “Don’t forget to lift your spurs above the horse’s shoulders when you exit. It’d be a rookie mistake.”

Brent nodded. He was aware of the rule, but in the moment he wasn’t sure he would have remembered to do so.

Swallowing hard, he nodded to the gate operator and the horse shot out.

Everything was a blur. Time slowed to a crawl as Brent focused on staying in the saddle. Could his brain knock around in his skull? Because that was what it felt like. One hand in the air and the other tightly gripping the rope, he made sure to focus on not falling. Eight seconds felt like an eternity when it came to not falling out of this dang saddle.

Back and forth. Up and down. Around and around. His breathing was heavy and his muscles ached. He was definitely going to be sore after this.

And just as quickly as it had begun, it ended.

Everything went black for a split second and when he opened his eyes, he was staring at the sky overhead. Someone grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet to help him out of the arena. Adrenaline still coursed through his body and yet he felt a little dizzy. He made it to the metal enclosure and climbed out of the arena.

A heavy clap on the back and laughter rang in his ears and he winced. Maybe he had a concussion.

“You did good, man. Barely made it the eight seconds, but you got it.” Tate was speaking. And he was smiling. That was a good thing, right? His eyes lifted to Brent’s forehead, and he frowned then turned to his brother. “Get Faith. She should probably look at that cut.”

Brent lifted his fingers to his forehead and they came back bloody. He cursed. “Do I need stiches?” He wouldn’t be able to hide that from his parents.

“Don’t think so,” Tate assured him. “But you should probably get it cleaned.”

Nodding, Brent found Jason already returning with Faith at his side. She was beaming at him like she always did. Out of all of Tate’s sisters, she was the one he liked the most. She was quiet, kind, and smart as a whip. Her laugh was the absolute best.