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“One other thing,” Jackson said.
There was always a catch.
“We’d appreciate it if you would do everything in your power to make sure that LeAnn Keller wins the buckle.”
“That’s what she’s paying me for,” Dylan said. “But why do you two want her to win over Muriel or the other women?”
Easing back in his chair, Jackson took a sip of his drink. “She’s got the right look that the WPRC wants to promote, and she’s got the spirit and drive that people respond to.”
“And after she lost the bronc busting to Merry Grayson, the odds are against her winning the bull-riding event. A cagey better could take home serious dividends,” Mr. Hickory said.
“You’re going to bet on LeAnn?” Dylan said.
“It’s smart money,” Mr. Hickory said with a look at Jackson.
“It’s a conflict of interest,” Jackson said, and shot Dylan a warning look. “Our athletes don’t bet on each other.”
“But I’m not an athlete,” Mr. Hickory said amiably. “What do you say, boy? Do you think you can help us pick out winning bulls?”
His uncle was going to have a few things to say about this new arrangement if he got his panties in a bunch about Dylan working for Hickory Livestock—his “competition.” Dylan made a note to give him a call and tell him about it before he heard it through the grapevine. And who knew, maybe if things took off, his uncle could also provide more bulls to the women’s organization as well as the men’s. At least until they merged into one, if that ever came about.
“When can I start?” Dylan asked.
Chapter Eight
Amarillo, TX—May
LeAnn loved the start of rodeo season. The potential made her giddy with excitement. The smell of freshly popped popcorn was just as much a part of her memories as the earthy smell of horse manure and saddle oil. The WPRC had selected her to bear the Texas flag during the opening ceremonies. It was an honor that she and Garth took very seriously. Her parents had given her a pair of brand-new Sierra Boots to wear, in the hopes that the company would see that she used their brand and look favorably upon her sponsorship request. They drove in from their home in Paris, Texas, with her sister Loretta to watch. She appreciated their support and was glad that they would get to see her compete. They preferred watching her barrel race over bronc riding, but they were beginning to come around to that as well.
If she hadn’t been a flag bearer, however, she would’ve worn her old boots. These pinched in the toe, and she had a feeling she was going to have blisters on the backs of her heels by the end of the day. While she waited to ride out into the arena, LeAnn looked around at the other athletes lining up. Normally, she searched for Mick so she could avoid him. But this time, he didn’t even cross her mind for more than a second. She was too focused on Dylan.
He usually didn’t attend the opening ceremonies. Or if he did, she never saw him. But this time, he was a flag bearer as well. And like her, he was decked out in new duds. He was carrying the company flag for the MPRC. He winked at her when he caught her looking at him.
LeAnn flushed. Had anyone seen that?
Dylan gave her a smoky glance and a sexy smile that she felt down to her pinched toes. His knowing look and his slow, seductive appraisal of her almost made her drop the flag from her nerveless fingers. She really had to get it together if they were going to be training on a bull that weighed almost as much as her horse, if not more. It would be dangerous to let herself be distracted by a panty-melting grin and a rock-solid set of shoulders.
After the national anthem and a couple of speeches from the heads of the WPRC and the MPRC, the rodeo season was firmly underway. The men’s bull-riding event was first, so LeAnn didn’t have a chance to talk to Dylan and wish him luck. The rodeo was a weekend affair, so they would have plenty of time to practice tonight and tomorrow night.
As LeAnn was returning Garth to the barn because their barrel-racing event wasn’t until later this afternoon, her sister Dolly came running up to her.
“Come with me and don’t ask any questions.”
Once Garth was secured, Dolly grabbed her upper arm and dragged her out of the barn at a fast clip, heading down toward the pens where the bulls were being kept.
“What’s going on?” LeAnn said.
“I need you to be honest with me,” Dolly said. “How serious are you about bull riding?”
Not this again. “Very serious. This isn’t some half-assed attempt to talk me out of it, is it?”
“Just the opposite.” Dolly dragged her to where the bull riders were gathered in the back of the chute.
Standing apart from them was Muriel Degas. She was a bronc rider like LeAnn, but Muriel was dressed up in leather chaps, with a bull rider chest protector and a helmet.
“What the heck is going on here?” LeAnn asked.
“The WPRC is going to announce the event in a more spectacular fashion than I had thought,” Dolly said, pointing at Muriel. “She’s going to compete in the men’s event. There’s the first women’s bull rider. She’s going to go last, and after she gets off the bull, that’s when they’re going to make the announcement.”
