Page 107 of Rough Ride

Sophie

I was a nervous wreck as I walked through the crowd, selling beers. I had never been thisinvestedin the rodeo before, not even when my ex, Trent, was competing. That was because he was a mid-level rodeo competitor, and never really had a chance of stepping onto the podium for any event. Johnny and Eli, however, were among the favorites.

Part of me missed those days when I didn’t care.

The tension in the arena built as the night went on. Everyone seemed to be waiting for Chris Appleton’s ride. The reigning rodeo champion had been disqualified on his last event, Steer Wrestling, and absolutely needed to bounce back tonight if he was going to maintain his status as the face of the Fort Worth Rodeo.

By the time he came flying out of the gate, the air in the arena was electric.

The Bull Riding event was similar to Saddle Bronc Riding, in the sense that participants needed to last at least eight seconds for their scores to count. Then they were evaluated on their performance as a rider, and on how difficult the bull was to ride.

Appleton was immediately sloppy as the bull thrashed back and forth. The crowd let out a collective gasp as he almost lost his seat three seconds into the ride, but he recovered enough to stay in the saddle.

The buzzer sounded at eight seconds, signaling an end to the round. Appleton jumped off the bull and strode away. The camera zoomed in on him, making his face appear on the enormous screen above the arena. I smiled in satisfaction—he was wearing alotof makeup, but his face was still puffy and lopsided from Sawyer’s punches.

His performance also made me smile. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great—it was somewhere in the middle. Nowhere near the top of the competitors we had seen so far, the best of whom had scored an 83.

But then the scores flashed on the screen.

Rider: 44

Bull: 50

Total: 94

I couldn’t believe my eyes. A score of 94 wasexceptional. Appleton’s winning score last year was just 91, and that had been a legitimately masterful riding performance. For him to be awarded a 94 after looking terrible in the saddle…

I felt a pang of sympathy for my cowboy lovers. There was no denying it now. The rodeo was rigged.

The audience reacted with a mix of cheers, groans, and curses. But in the private booth a few sections over, Salmon was standing up and shaking hands with everyone around him. They were laughing and grinning like the rodeo was already over and Appleton had been crowned the victor.

My hand clenched into a fist at my side.Not if my boys have anything to say about it.

Eli was immediately after Appleton. I squinted down at the starting block, studying his face. I wondered if he was going to try his best to win, or if he was going to intentionally lose and take Salmon’s money. As much as I wanted him to kick Appleton’s ass, I didn’t know what I would do if I were in his position.

The buzzer sounded, the gate swung open, and the bull flew into the open arena.

The eight seconds seemed to last eight minutes, every thrash of the bull almost appearing to happen in slow motion. By the end, I had to close my eyes—I couldn’t watch.

When the buzzer sounded, I finally opened my eyes. Eli jumped from the bull, landing on the dirt floor of the arena, and immediately pumped both fists in victory. He opened his mouth and let out a battle cry, but I couldn’t hear it over the cheers of the crowd.

“That was good, right?” I asked the spectator who was jumping up and down to my left.

“Yes ma’am!” he replied, grinning down at the arena. “That’s the winning ride, I tell you h’what.”

He hadn’t lost on purpose. He’d tried his best. Even when tempted with seven figures, Eli was a man of principles. It reinforced everything I believed about that man, and made me grin with pride.

But my smile disappeared when the score was given.

Rider: 47

Bull: 46

Total: 93

“One point!” the spectator next to me groaned. “Unbelievable!”

“No!” I blurted out.

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