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“That’s not how Shelby meant it. It’s a PR nightmare. Ask Dolly.”
“I don’t want to ask Dolly. I want to ride.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. Even if he was relieved that she wouldn’t be risking herself on a bull, he could empathize with her hurt and disappointment.
“Are you?” she said bitterly. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To keep me off a bull.”
“I wanted to keep you safe.”
“And yet, it’s a male bull rider in the hospital tonight instead of a woman. I’m sick of this double standard. It’s bullshit.”
“Sweetheart,” he said, reaching to cup her face, but she flinched away.
“I risked everything for this belt. I took a hit in rankings for bronc and barrel racing so I could excel in bull riding, and now that’s all been for nothing because Mick couldn’t stay on a drugged bull for eight seconds. How is that fair that the women’s event gets canceled?”
“I wish I could help,” he said.
“Do you?” And this time her tone was even more bitter. “From the beginning, it was always ‘LeAnn, you’re not ready.’ I was ready. And the irony that’s choking me right now is if I had ridden the bull you chose, I would have gotten hurt. I didn’t get hurt riding Mick’s bull. Why isn’t anyone acknowledging that?”
“Because this whole thing is a black eye on the WPRC’s reputation. You shouldn’t have been able to switch bulls like you did. Kingmaker shouldn’t have been drugged, and Mr. Hickory shouldn’t have been placing bets on riders who were on his bulls.”
“I can’t have wasted the last few months for it to end like this. I could have accepted losing. There’s no shame in that. But for it to be taken away from us, it’s just not right.”
Dylan could sympathize. He felt the same away about saving up for the ranch only to have his plans blow up—first when he couldn’t get a loan, and now, when he was out of a job and suspended for thirty days.
“Maybe you can talk to Shelby and convince her,” he said, but LeAnn was already shaking her head.
“No. Fuck her. I’m going to talk to Jackson Blevins. Give me his number.”
Dylan rattled off the phone number. “What’s he going to do?”
“You’ll see.” With shaking fingers, she punched in the numbers. “Damn it. I got voicemail. Mr. Blevins, this is LeAnn Keller. I want to ride bulls for the MPRC. Call me back so we can discuss how this is going to work.”
As Dylan gaped at her, she recited her phone number and hung up.
“You can’t ride with the men,” he said.
“Watch me.”
“No, LeAnn, you need more experience on the smaller bulls. It’s safer that way.”
“I don’t need safe.”
“That’s just what Johnny would say.” And now it was his turn to be bitter.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “Maybe I’m the one who can’t do this anymore.”
Here it was—what he had been expecting all along. But Dylan hadn’t expected it to hurt so much.
“You’ve got a thirty-day suspension, right?” she said, opening her eyes to look at him.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly.
“Take that time and really think about if you want to be with me.”
“I told you I loved you and I meant it.”
“I love you too, but I’m not going to change for you. You’re going to have to decide if you can live with that.”
