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“I haven’t yet,” he said with a shrug. “I need to practice what to say to them. I’ve got to counter all the arguments my father is going to throw at me because I’m only going to have one chance.”
“Maybe we should buy lottery tickets instead.”
“Maybe.” And the next time they filled up, he bought two. One for her and one for him. “We’ll split it if we win.”
“Deal,” she said.
By the time they got to Tulsa, the ache in his chest from missing Lola gave way to the standard aches and the pain in his ribs. He wouldn’t have been roping at this event anyway, but he still missed his horse. His uncle wouldn’t be at another rodeo until Montana, so he was only bull riding for the Oklahoma events. It wouldn’t kill him to take it easy. But it would be a burden on his wallet until he signed the contract with Sierra Boots—if Dolly could work her magic. With a fifteen percent commission, she was probably very motivated to do that.
“Are you sure that you’ll be able to ride a bull? Are your ribs okay?” LeAnn asked.
“I’ll tape them up extra good. It won’t be fun, but I’ll be all right.” He was a little annoyed that his knee was starting to twinge and lock up as well. It felt like a ticking clock, letting him know how much time he had left in the rodeo game.
Dylan needed to win, though. He needed the points to keep himself in the running for the all-around standings to qualify for the large grand prize from the MPRC at the end of the season. He had six more states and three times that many rodeos at the very least in order to qualify.
“How are you feeling today about your ride?” Dylan asked.
“Good, although I think Muriel and Callie have the better bulls.”
“Maybe,” Dylan said, looking over the roster. “But all these bulls are still so new, any one of them could surprise us.”
“You’re not giving me easy bulls because you’re afraid I’ll end up like Johnny, are you?”
Dylan was a little annoyed that she had asked that, but he figured it was a fair question. He thought about it for a moment and answered as honestly as he could. “I’m recommending bulls that will match your skill level, same as I do the other women riders. These are just suggestions, but keep in mind this is my job. Mr. Hickory wants me to evaluate the WPRC bulls to make sure that no rider gets on a bull that they can’t handle.”
“I want to try tougher bulls,” she said.
“You just started staying on for eight seconds. You need more practice.”
“Don’t hold me back because you’re afraid I’ll get hurt.”
“While I would like to wrap you in cotton wool and have you mutton bust instead of bronc busting, you’d hate me for it. I know that because if anybody ever did that to me, I would resent it. You can trust me. I only have your safety and best interests in mind when I suggest which bulls go into the drawings that you choose from.” And if he erred on the side of caution, especially with her, Dylan felt it was worth it to make sure she was safe.
LeAnn’s face softened. “I didn’t mean to imply that I couldn’t trust you. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little nervous. When I see the scores and the rankings, I know I’m not the best.”
There it was again. He had an obligation as her coach to set her expectations. But he found he couldn’t crush the spark of hope he saw in her eyes. “Yet,” Dylan said. “You’ve got eighteen more rodeos to qualify for the finals.” He was confident that she would make it into the finals. Once she got there, however, she didn’t have a prayer of beating Callie or Muriel if her riding stayed the same. But Vegas was still a ways away, and anything could happen.
*
It hadn’t been a bad day at the rodeo. Both he and LeAnn stayed on their bulls for eight seconds. LeAnn actually placed second in bronc busting, and third in barrel racing. Then her sister Dolly had whisked her away to talk to a bunch of sponsors. Sierra Boots hadn’t scheduled a meeting with them yet, so Dolly wasn’t putting all of her eggs into one basket.
Dylan texted LeAnn, asking her to let him know when she was done, and then they could discuss what they wanted to do tonight. Reba and Dolly were still living in the RV with LeAnn, so that left her place out. He hadn’t booked a room yet, because he wanted to be frugal with his money until he was back competing at all the events.
While he waited for her to get free, he walked down the road to a greasy spoon that the local boys said had the best fried okra. Not wanting to hold up a table, Dylan went into the large bar where a few of the bullfighters were playing pool. He texted LeAnn the address and a copy of the menu with the note:
Should I order?
When she didn’t get back to him, Dylan ordered a beer and sat at the bar. As he nursed it, he scrolled through websites on his phone to search for land auctions, trying to see what the going rates were and how much was required for down payment. His best bet might be to acquire land at an auction, but to do that, he needed to have serious money in the bank first. He knew the smart thing to do was to wait a year or two and try again for the loan, but he didn’t want to wait. The longer he waited, the harder it would be to save. Lola’s boarding fees would eat into his profits. When he bought a new horse, that would eat into his profits too.
He was brooding about that when Mick came into the bar. Dylan didn’t acknowledge him and went back to his phone. As long as Mick didn’t say shit about LeAnn and kept minding his own business, Dylan could pretend that Mick didn’t exist.
Again, Dylan had to wonder—if he had made different choices in his life, would things be different now? Of course, it was ridiculous to try and “what if” his life. If he wasn’t in the rodeo, he wouldn’t have to worry about Lola. And maybe if he had been smarter and got better grades in school, he would have followed in his father’s footsteps and become a venture capitalist.
Dylan snorted at the thought. Not likely.
All he needed was one good break. So that meant he had to stay healthy for the rest of the season, but still take enough risks so that he could outride Mick and the rest of the bull riders. If he could do that, and get Sierra Boots as a sponsor, he might be able to afford a down payment on the ranch sooner rather than later. And once he could show the bank that he had steady employment, he might be able to swing that loan to buy a ranch at auction next year.
Of course, if he swallowed his pride and asked his parents for money, his father might give him a loan now. Dylan could probably convince him it was a good investment. Before he could think about it, he dialed his father’s number.
