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It was time.
Securing his crash helmet, Rick climbed over the bars and settled on the bull’s back.
This was his favorite moment.
Feeling the anxious beast beneath him never failed to send an electric thrill through his being, and he loved hearing the anticipatory buzz from the crowd.
His heart thumped.
He gripped the ribbing.
Most cowboys nodded when they were ready.
Rick shoutedYo!
He wasn’t even sure how or when it began, but everyone knew it.
The chute opened and the bull bucked it’s way into the ring…
* * *
Watching from the stands, Bailey held her breath. The powerful animal twisted its body as it bucked. How Rick was able to stay on she couldn’t understand, but his body seemed to be in unison with the wild creature’s violent gyrations.
Suddenly it was over.
Rick was on the ground.
As the crowd roared their approval, three bullfighters caught the bull’s attention and hustled it through the out gate.
But Bailey’s eyes were glued on Rick.
He appeared to be unscathed.
At some point during the ride she’d jumped to her feet, and letting out a relieved sigh, she sat back down.
The judges posted the score.
Eighty-six.
The highest up to that point had been eighty-one.
“That was one helluva ride,” the man beside her declared. “How the heck did he stay on that long?”
“He’s just that good,” the cowboy next to him remarked.
It was the same comment she had made to Rick in The Tavern earlier, and it brought a smile to her lips. She suddenly wanted to talk to him. But as she reached for her phone, she paused, thought about it for a moment, and decided to text.
Just saw your ride. Amazing. How do you do that? And what a great score. Congratulations.
She waited, staring at her screen.
Nerve-racking seconds ticked by.
He finally responded.
You’re here?
Yes, I came to watch.
