Page 41 of Secrets of Riverside

‘Tell me about it, Amy, that sexy beast of a man can ride me any time,’ another declared.

‘I wish I knew how he got it.’ Amy’s voice was distinctive.

A gasp was followed by ‘I bet it was from a bull’s horn.’

‘Oh my gosh, yes! That makes him even hotter!’ a new voice stated. ‘If I got my hands on him, I’d do him like there’s no tomorrow.’

A collective cackle was flowed by ‘… me too, in a heartbeat.’

‘What about your boyfriend?’ another said.

‘He doesn’t need to know about it. What happens at a rodeo stays at the rodeo, hey, girls.’

They burst into laughter, sounding like a pack of hyenas.

Millie rolled her eyes. Did they know how cheap and nasty they sounded? A sneaky glance over her shoulder confirmed they were likely in their mid-twenties and dolled up. With their low-cut tops, they were clearly keen to show their wares. As if a man like Jarrah would be interested in a much younger woman, especially one that evidently had no class at all. She knew him for the man he was now, but had he ever gone for the buckle-bunnies in the past? Her stomach roiled from a sudden shot of jealousy. A sense of protectiveness rushed over her. She bit her lip to stop from turning around and telling the pack of desperadoes to stay the hell away from her man. Because he wasn’t her man, in the slightest, and she’d be making a complete fool of herself in doing so. It would be interesting to see how much attention he got at the afterparty, though, and how she’d handle it, if she stayed long enough to bear witness. Since she’d started working in the kitchen, staying up past ten-thirty was proving hard. But she had the next day off, so she should at least try to make midnight.

The hum of the crowd hushed as the announcer introduced the guy who was going to perform the national anthem. Tall and lanky, the singer wore a shirt that was starched to a crisp and his fawn felt hat was pulled low over his brow. As he reached the centre of the ring, the microphone crackled to life, and the crowd stood. Standing among her fellow Aussies, she sang the words, feeling so very proud, and so very blessed, to call Australia home.

‘Righto, folks, it looks like we’re ready to get the final battle of the barrel racing underway.’ The compere’s voice pitched with excitement as he began announcing the next competitor. ‘Rose Jones is a local rider and has made a name for herself over the years, so make sure you give her a rousing entrance.’

Clapping along with the crowd, Millie was certain she’d heard of this Rose Jones before now. From what she could recall, Rose was from a farm called Jacaranda, and she’d been acing the barrel-racing circuit for over a decade. Maybe it had been when she was reading one of Jarrah’s R.M. Williams Outback magazines that she’d come across her name. The crowd began to hush. There was a three-second pause, and then the horse exploded into action. Rose Jones and her companion leant into the corners like a Grand Prix motorbike rider would, making a tight figure eight around the barrels in mind-blowing time. The horse’s stride was measured and powerful, and Rose’s posture was faultless. Millie held her breath as hoofs hammered over the finishing line. A few more of the qualifiers followed, and wrapped up in the excitement of it all, before she knew it, the barrel racing was over and Rose Jones was named champion.

‘Ladies and gents, girls and boys, now we’ve completed the barrel-racing event, next up our courageous riders are going to try and show the bulls who’s boss.’

Millie sat up straighter as the first rider thundered out into the arena, hanging on for his dear life. He was thrown within two seconds. On his feet in less than that, he was sprinting for the safety of the rails with the bull hot on his heels. Getting his boot on the bottom rung, he vaulted over the top in the nick of time, barely missing being caught by the bull’s deadly horns. A collective cheer rose and the bloke lifted his hat while offering a cheesy grin to his adoring fans. The bull snorted on the ground beneath him, snot flying from side to side as it looked left to right for its next target. Millie watched on in total admiration at the courage of the bullfighters, and their agility that kept the rider out of harm’s way as they pushed the belligerent beast towards the gates leading to the holding yards.

Running her eyes over the tops of the railings, she met with Jarrah’s silhouette just as he jumped down and disappeared behind the chutes. With the announcer’s voice booming over the speakers, the guy was doing his best to work the spectators into a frenzy by telling them Jarrah had drawn the fiercest of the bulls. And he succeeded as the crowd erupted in cheers and boot stomping. The grandstand quivered from the rhythmic drumbeat of feet, but she couldn’t join in the fun. Her quivering legs wouldn’t be able to hold her.

Next up was a gangly bloke, who appeared to just hang on tight. He was bucked off in three seconds flat. Landing in a heap, he then stumbled to his feet and gave the crowd a wave with his hat. A goofy grin was planted on his face as he hightailed it over the fence with the bull aiming like a sniper for his back end. Another two rides ensued, with only one of the guys making it to the eight-second bell. Next up was Jarrah. Hands gripped tightly in her lap, Millie did her best to ignore the cheers and giggles of the girls behind her as she focused on his imminent ride. The big screen was honed in on him and she could see every little detail of his handsome face, including the scar that gave him more of an edge. Straddling the bull, he adjusted his grip on the strap. Bunching its muscles, the bull bucked in the chute. It took four men to calm the situation as sweat tracked its way down her spine.

Please, God, keep him safe …

She was shocked by the awareness that she’d just asked a god she hadn’t quite believed in for many years to take care of Jarrah. But there was no time to ponder her sudden belief as Jarrah nodded and the gate flew open. The bull shot out and into the arena like a cannon fired. Jarrah’s left hand was high in the air as Devil’s Advocate spun wildly, its trained ferocity unleashed. Man and beast danced to the beat of the spectators’ hearts and the ticking of the timer. The seconds felt like hours as she held her breath. She almost wanted to close her eyes, but couldn’t look away. At six seconds, the crowd were on their feet. As was she. The next two seconds felt like an eternity. But then the buzzer sounded.

Thank god!

Jarrah launched himself from Devil’s Advocate’s back and landed on his feet. The crowd went crazy. To her horror, the bull spun and came for him. But the bullfighters did what they did best, putting themselves between the man that had every snippet of her attention and the belligerent beast.

‘I’m gonna get me some of that cowboy tonight, girls,’ said a voice from behind her.

It would be over her dead body …

Not wanting to hear any more of their smut talk about a man that meant so much to her, Millie made her escape before she gave the bunch of girls a piece of her mind. She wanted to see Jarrah, to make sure he was as good as he looked when he left the arena, and to congratulate him on his perfect ride. Her footfalls quickened as she reached the bottom of the grandstand and headed in the direction of the back of the chutes.

‘You looking for me, cowgirl?’ A husky voice came from the shadows.

She spun, her smile wide when she spotted Jarrah among the other riders, some stretching, some sitting, and one down on his knees, praying. ‘Oh, hey, Jarrah, yeah, I am.’

Going over to the railings, she leant against the cool steel. Jarrah met her on the opposite side, and his eyes danced over her before they locked onto hers. ‘You enjoying the rodeo?’

‘I sure am.’ She liked how he kept glancing at her as he stepped away and packed his gear bag. ‘That was a mighty fine ride too, King.’

‘Why thankya, Mills.’ He zipped up his bag and tossed it over his shoulder. ‘I tell you what, though, I’m going to be bloody sore tomorrow. My body’s not made for this kind of stuff anymore.’ He ducked under the railings and stopped short of her. ‘I need to inhale a burger with the lot, and then would you like to go grab a beer or two over at the bar?’

‘Uh-huh, sounds like a plan.’ Her hands in her jean pockets, she fell into step beside him. ‘I didn’t know you could ride like that.’ She raised her voice to compete with the foot-tapping beat of the familiar Brad Paisley song blaring from the suspended speakers. ‘I thought you were an amateur.’

‘Ah, nope.’ He offered a sideward glance and his cheeky expression matched his spirited tone. ‘It’s not my first rodeo.’

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