Page 110 of Stockman's Showdown

‘Is it too late to stop this?’ asked Ash, with wide eyes.

‘Like hell.’ He was here now.

Charlie leaned down and tapped on Ryder’s leg covered in thick leather chaps. ‘Find his rhythm, son. Every bull has one. It’s buck, kick, and rear, some twist at the same time. You find that rhythm and you’ll finish the ride. Good luck, son.’

‘Good luck, brother.’ Dex also patted his shoulder.

‘I wish I had my drone to tape this.’ Ash giving him a thumbs up, while aiming his phone’s camera at Ryder.

‘You’ve got this, Ryder, give ‘em hell.’ Craig balanced on the rail nearby. ‘Just give the fellas a nod when you’re ready.’

Ryder checked his grip one more time. Then glanced up at the crowd and spotted Bree. She looked worried.

‘Stuff it.’ He nodded at the man.

And the gate swung open.

Forty

The crowd roared as Ryder entered the rodeo arena on the back of a bucking cross-bred Brahman bull named Chainsaw.

Bree was on her feet, her heart in her throat as the massive beast plunged, leaped, and spun in the air, stirring up the dust, with Ryder holding on with one hand, his other arm in the air, in the most dangerous sport on the planet.

Chainsaw snorted in fury, his eyes white and wild, twisting his body desperately to get that man off his back. The seconds seemed to trickle into hours as she watched on, horrified.

How on earth did her grandmother survive watching Charlie ride rodeo bulls, driving interstate for a simple eight-second ride, when there was nothing simple about this. Eight seconds he had to hold on for, and not touch the bull or himself with his free arm that he held high in the air.

Poor Granny Bea, watching those sharp horns gouge into her grandfather’s chest, injuring him so gravely that it took Charlie a year before he rode a horse again. He was lucky to be alive.

And Ryder. Whatever possessed the normally sane, stern, plan-everything and do-nothing-spontaneous Captain, to ride a one-tonne bucking bull!

She counted down the seconds in her head. Three… Four… Five…

The crowd started counting.‘Six… Seven…’

Bree couldn’t tear her eyes off the scene, holding her breath with her fingers crossed.

A siren blasted.

And the crowd erupted in cheers. Some threw their hats in the air.

Behind the arena’s fence, on the working part of the rodeo, Charlie, Craig, Dex and Ash all took turns hugging each other, jubilant for Ryder.

Ryder jumped off the bull.

He’d made it.

Only then did Bree breathe.

Ryder raised his hat to the cheering crowd as Chainsaw safely trotted away through the open gate.

Bree clapped her hands, the numbness swapped for the prickles in her fingers as she smiled at him. He’d done it.

But instead of returning to the back of the arena, with all the other rodeo riders, Ryder strode across the arena. He climbed up and over the railed fence that protected the audience, then hiked up the bleachers with the tassels shifting on his leather chaps, his eyes shaded by his black hat, heading straight for her.

‘What are you doing?’

‘This.’ He took off his black hat and placed it on her head.

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