AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Across the parking lot, the two ranch hands had opened the back of Brock’s trailer and were shoveling manure and wet straw into a cart, cleaning up the space before the trip home. The job was one Tess would need to do as well, but for now, it could wait.
As she gazed across the maze of pens and chutes, she recognized some of the top bulls from the PBR. Chiseled, easily distinguished by his black coat and the tan stripe down his back, was penned nearby. And she glimpsed Woopaa, the current champion, being unloaded from a trailer into a chute. The competition for first-place bull was as keen as the contest for top rider. Rankings were based on points awarded over the season. All points counted toward the final score that would determine the world champion bull—and pay a handsome prize to his owner.
Whirlwind was too far behind the leaders to win this year. But he was still young, and his bucking scores were getting him noticed. Maybe next year, Tess mused. Maybe then, with a little more experience, he would have a real chance.
Her thoughts scattered as a heavy-duty black pickup with oversize tires rumbled into the lot and parked in the nearest row. She stood watching as the driver’s side door opened. Trust Brock to make an entrance every time.
She waited outside the pens as he strode toward her, all broad shoulders, long legs, and confidence. If he were to trip and fall on his taut-muscled rear, it would give her no end of satisfaction.
“Good, I’ve caught you early.” He glanced around. “Don’t tell me you came alone.”
“Ruben and Pedro had to take bulls to another event.”
“Maybe you should hire more help.”
“Maybe. I’ll think about that later,” Tess said. “For now, just so you won’t have to ask, my answer is yes. I want that black bull.”
A smile tightened his lips. “I think you’re making a bad decision, but I know better than to try and talk you out of it. Let me know when you want him delivered.”
“Early next week should be all right. I’ll just need to make sure we have a place to keep him, away from our other bulls, until he gets used to his new home.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. He gets along fine with other bulls. It’s people that he doesn’t like—oh, and coyotes.”
“Thanks. I’ll remember that. And he has a name now. I’m going to call him Quicksand.”
“For that bull, it fits. So we have a deal then.” He extended his hand.
“We have a deal.” Tess’s fingers were lost in his big, leathery palm.
“Have you eaten?” he asked. “I’ve got an early lunch scheduled with some business connections. As my partner in the Alamo Canyon Ranch, you’re welcome to come. You might find it interesting.”
Tess bit back a surge of annoyance. He was already talking as if he were the owner of her ranch and not just a shareholder. But some provocations were best ignored. “Thanks for the invitation,” she said, “but I want to stay with Whirlwind and make sure he’s settled. I brought sandwiches and drinks in a cooler.”
“Well, then—”
An uproar of shouts and furious thumping came from the inside of the trailer where the two men were working.
“What the devil—?” Brock broke into a run, with Tess close behind him. They had almost reached the trailer when the younger man stumbled down the ramp carrying a shovel. The older man came behind him, carrying a pitchfork with something draped over the tines.
It was a dead rattlesnake.
CHAPTER FOUR
BROCK FROZE AT THE SIGHT OF THE DEAD SNAKE—A FOUR-FOOTER, at least, its scaly body still twitching. Jim, the younger ranch hand, spoke. “It was in the straw.” His voice quivered slightly. “Rusty, here, killed it with the pitchfork.”
Brock cleared the tightness from his throat. “Did either of you get bitten?”
“Nope,” Rusty said. “The critter struck at my boot, but it didn’t bite through. It don’t look like it’ll be bitin’ anybody else. But that skin should make a dandy hatband.”
“Be my guest. It’s all yours.” Brock would need to inspect the bulls he’d brought. An animal with a 2,000-pound body mass could survive the venom with some swelling and discomfort, but a snake-bitten bull would be in no condition to buck.
“It must’ve been in the straw when we forked it out of the stack,” Jim said. “But it’s hard to believe that we could’ve missed anything that big and alive.”
“Make sure there aren’t any more in there.” Brock felt mildly nauseous. “Right now, I need to make sure none of my bulls got bitten.”
“I’ll go with you,” Tess volunteered. “Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
“Thanks.” He strode toward the pen complex, trusting Tess to keep up with him. Stretching her long legs, she matched his stride.
