Page 106 of Stockman's Showdown

‘Nope.’

‘We’ll find you some. I’d recommend gloves.’

‘I’ve got some in the ute.’ He pulled out his phone and texted Ash:Please grab my fencing gloves from the back of the ute, tucked in behind the spare tyre. I need them to ride a bull.

Ash’s response:WTF bro! You for real?

Ryder texted back:Bring them to the back of the rodeo ring. ASAP.

‘We’ll be drawing the bulls in a second, so stick around to find out your riding order. This is your number. Put it on your shirt, but I’d recommend you find yourself a vest to protect your chest.’

Ryder was given a number, like the one he’d given Mia when she represented his family at the muster dog trials. Ryder’s had three numbers, unlike Cowboy Craig who wore the number 3,and in that display case that held Charlie’s leather vest and chaps, it showed number 1.

‘Bad luck on the number, son,’ said Charlie, with Dex and Craig approaching. ‘Ya know what those numbers mean?’

Ryder didn’t care. It just showed he’d paid for his spot.

‘That’s your ranking as a rider. And we all start somewhere, son.’

This is exactly what he’d hoped for. Bree was holding back for Charlie’s sake, and what a better way to win over a champion bull rider, than to sit his arse on a bull.

‘I can’t believe you’re doing this,’ said Dex.

‘Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’ve already signed up.’ He held up his number to Dex.

‘Why?’

‘I have a bet with Bree.’ Bree was teaching him to play, and to be spontaneous. But he most enjoyed shocking the redhead by doing this.

My how the tables had turned, when normally he’d be the one trying to talk Bree out of doing something reckless. It’s what made this all the more sweeter.

‘Got any gear, son?’ Charlie looked over at Ryder, but with approval.

‘Nope.’

‘I’ve got a spare vest, and chaps,’ said Craig. ‘I’ll be right back.’

‘I hope your medical insurance is all paid up, and your will is in order,’ said Dex, shaking his head.

‘Oi, leave off,’ said Charlie. ‘If the man wants to have a go, let him. I didn’t see Ryder stop you from entering the ring for your fighting bouts.’

‘I trained for those. But this is a bull. A properly trained bucking bull.’

‘Hush now, you.’ Charlie flicked his hand at Dex, then patted Ryder’s shoulder. ‘Do you know what bull you’ll be riding, yet?’

Ryder shook his head. ‘They said they were drawing the names out soon.’

‘The rookie riders usually ride straight after the parade. You might like it.’

Ryder was only doing this once. It wasn’t the first time he’d been in a life-and-death situation. Yet, these guys did it as a sport. It took courage to get on a powerful beast like that, he had to respect the other rodeo riders around him, preparing to put on a good show.

‘Why did you do it, Charlie? The bulls?’ Considering the huge risk involved.

‘Well, rodeo has always been a popular sport amongst the stockmen in the Northern Territory. We’ve got enough cattle stations with plenty of stockmen willing to have a go. As you’d know.’

‘Sure, as a kid, I did the broncs, or just got my fill of rodeo breaking in stockhorses, or the occasional bull in the yards.’ Ryder also remembered as a kid how he went with his brothers to see the local rodeo, where they got their first glimpse of the tough men that made them all want to be stockmen. He’d worked every school holiday on some station to gain the skills, even had a few decent muster seasons under his belt before he joined the Army.

‘But it’s more than that, son. Our local rodeo is a celebration of the tough, independent lifestyle that defines the Northern Territory’s cattle industry. Very few people in Australia—certainly not those down south—live the way we do, with crocodiles and cyclones.’ Charlie patted his heart. ‘It’s who we are as stockmen. And it’s not about the trophies or showin’ off either, it’s about getting on that bull to prove you’re tougher than the land we work on. It’s about testing yourself, showin’ you’ve got the guts to stand tall, even when the world is tryin’ to buck you off.’

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