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“I want to move Pecos Bull up into the men’s division,” Dylan said. “He’s developed a bit of a vicious streak.”
Mr. Hickory nodded. “You’re the boss. Do you want to ride him?”
“Maybe. If I pick him in the draw, I wouldn’t trade. I’ve ridden him a few times, and he puts up a good show. But he’s no Fever Dream.” And thank the Lord for that.
“Fair enough,” Mr. Hickory said. “I can’t help but notice that LeAnn has been doing very well on her last couple of rides. I can make better money if she loses the bull-riding event this weekend. But if she wins this, I’m never going to see odds like that again.”
“I wouldn’t bet against her,” Dylan said, scratching at the stubble on his chin. It itched.
“If you make sure she gets a bull like Pecos Bull here,” Mr. Hickory said, lowering his voice and leaning into him. “I could clean up.”
“I’m not going to rig the draw, so LeAnn gets a bull that she’ll wreck on.” He scowled at his boss.
“Yeah, I hear that you’re pretty sweet on her. I get it that you don’t want her hurt. How about you give her an easy one then? I could still make some money if she wins. I’d just have to bet more.”
“I’m not going to spoon-feed her an easy bull either. She’d never forgive me.” This conversation was making his blood boil.
“She’d never find out,” Mr. Hickory said. “This would be just between you and me.”
“I’d know, though, and I’d never forgive myself. I wouldn’t want anybody to give me a free ride on a bull.” It was one thing to be ultra-careful with the bulls that the women were riding, it was another to make sure a bull was well below their skill level to ride.
Mr. Hickory rolled his eyes. “Son, this isn’t about being an athlete. This is about making money. I thought you knew the difference.”
“I do know the difference and that’s why I’m not going to put her on Pecos Bull or a bull that’s too easy. LeAnn can win on her own merit. The women’s bulls have been chosen specifically to meet their level of experience, which is what you hired me to do.”
Mr. Hickory shook his head. “You disappoint me, boy.”
“She’s good enough to win without me fixing the results,” Dylan said.
“Over Callie and Muriel?”
Dylan’s jaw tightened. “It depends on the day. It depends on the bull.” But the clock was ticking. They had the rest of the Montana rodeos and then all of New Mexico before the finals in Vegas. As predicted, LeAnn would be going to Vegas. But it would take a miracle for her to beat Callie and Muriel. Still, miracles could happen.
“Well, I guess that’s that then.” Mr. Hickory shook his hand. “I’m sorry you couldn’t see it my way.”
There was enough in his statement that Dylan wondered how long he’d have this job. It figured. But he didn’t want to cheat, so maybe it would be best if they parted ways. After Mr. Hickory walked away, Dylan noticed that Mick had been standing close enough to overhear their conversation.
He caught Mick’s eye. “Do we have a problem?”
Mick, who had been giving him a wide berth since the bar incident, shook his head and said, “No problem.”
As Mick skulked away, Dylan couldn’t help but feel uneasy. There was going to be a problem all right. No sense worrying about that now, though. He had to get ready for his own event.
*
LeAnn had just finished up running the barrels with Garth. Their times were excellent. She was tired, but exhilarated. Her scores were improving, and her bronc and bull rides had been the best she’d ever done. Sure, she was training more, pushing herself because when it was quiet, all her doubts and old hurts started to creep in. When she was on the back of a horse or even a bull, all of that went away. She felt free and happy.
Throughout it all, Dylan had been her rock, even when they couldn’t see each other because they were traveling to different rodeos around the southwest. They usually caught up with each other on the weekends. Even though they were apart more than they were together these past weeks, LeAnn never worried that he was screwing around on her like Mick had done. It felt really good to trust in a relationship again.
Her sisters were busy with their own issues. Dolly had been called back to Texas to work her magic over in the corporate office of the WPRC. Reba was all over the place with both organizations. More often than not, she had the Winnebago and LeAnn took her truck to the events so she could spend more time with Dylan.
In the absence of her sisters, LeAnn hung out more with the bull riders—Callie, Muriel and Samantha. They’d sometimes get together at night to have a potluck dinner at Muriel’s camper or sit around having drinks in the hotel bar where one of them were staying. LeAnn tried to stay away from the barrel racers, mostly because Debbi was one of them. She couldn’t believe that two-faced little rat could be all sweetness and pie to her face, but as soon as LeAnn was out of earshot, she’d start up again with any shit she could stir up. And the rumor was that Sierra Boots was looking at her for their next spokesperson.
LeAnn hoped their boots gave her blisters.
LeAnn was taking care of Garth in the barn when Mick approached her. Looking around for a quick weapon, she spied one of the ropes she used for events. It wouldn’t be as satisfying as a whip or anything, but still, she wouldn’t want to get hit with it.
“I ought to beat you senseless and give you something to whine about on social media for real.”
