Page 3 of Eight Seconds to Fly

I climbed up on the chute, running my foot over Hurricane’s back to let him know I was coming. I settled in, and a hand behind me grabbed my vest.

I didn’t look over my shoulder at them. I knew they were there to grab me up in case the bull did something crazy. They’d yank me out of there before I got crushed, if they needed to. As if he knew the direction of my thoughts, Hurricane kicked around in the chute, testing the metal. Hands dragged me up until I could get my feet back on the rails. Hurricane settled back down and I slid back on, running my hand over the rope to warm the rosin. I did the loop and nodded to the rope guy to pull tight.

He did, and I made the mistake of looking up to thank him. I met a pair of familiar warm whiskey eyes. Beau, Branch’s long time best friend. My friend. Fuck.

He reared back in shock as recognition rocked through him, and I knew if he opened his mouth, I was fucked.

“Go!” I yelled at the gate man, and then it was eight seconds to fly or fall.

Hurricaneburst out of the chutes, twisting to the left. I leaned into the movement, trying not to get sucked into the well. But Daddy bred his bulls well, and the strain on my arm was insane as I struggled to get my seat. I knew in another two rotations,Hurricanewould stop and try and throw me forward. ButHurricanedecided to fucking adlib today, rapidly changing direction and throwing me off the side.

I hit the ground with a thud, the wind getting knocked out of me even as hooves flew around my head. I scrambled to my feet, butHurricanedecided he was being ornery and had me in his sights. He ran after me, ignoring the bullfighters and charging after me. His giant head caught me in the ass and he flipped me like a rag doll. I knew how to fall, but I would never forget the faces of the crowd as I shot six feet in the air over the back of an enraged bull. I even saw Beau and Branch’s faces on the way down, the horrified expressions would have been comical if I wasn’t about to be severely injured.

Leaving my body loose, I still felt a pain in my shoulder as I landed hard on it in the sand. The clowns corralledHurricaneback through the gate, and then Branch and Beau were over the fence, running toward me.

I just laid there, staring at the sky. I’d done it. I’d fucking done it.

When the faces of Beau and Branch crowded out the sky, I tuned back into the roar of the crowd and their voices.

“Fucking hell, Nugget. Are you okay?” Beau yelled over the sound. Branch grabbed my helmet and pulled it off.

When he saw my huge shit eating grin, his face morphed from concern to anger. “Are you fucking insane, Tessa May? You could have died,” he roared, and I had no problem hearing him over the crowd.

I sat up, still grinning. “Yep, so could you. How long did I stick it for?”

Beau’s lips twitched. He wasn’t as big of an asshole as Branch. “Five-three. It was a good ride.”

Branch slapped him on the back of the head then stood, reaching down to haul me to my feet. He frogmarched me out of the ring and I hoped none of the crowd could see I was a girl. I didn’t want it to detract from my ride. I’d stuck it for five seconds.

The rodeo medic was there when I walked out of the arena, and his face as he recognized me was hilarious. I’d known the doc since I was an infant. “Tessa May, what are you doing?” he gasped, and I knew that in exactly two minutes, word would get back to Daddy.

“I was flyin’, Doc,” I grinned.

He shook his head in bemused worry. “Let’s see if that fall knocked any sense into that head of yours, shall we?”

Branch stormed off, but Beau stood beside me as the Doc checked me over. When the door opened and closed, Beau’s face went pale and I knew who stood there. Uh oh.

“Tessa May!” The roar rattled the windows, and I looked over my shoulder at my father, and I smiled softly.

“Did you see me ride? Did you see?” I whispered, and his face melted. He loved me. He loved me more than anything in the world. He wouldn’t stay mad at me, but he would ground me for life for this.

He shook his head. “I saw. Get in the damn car. We are going home.”

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in the front seat of my Daddy’s truck with an icepack pressed to my shoulder. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, despite the absolutely thunderous expression on my father’s face.

“Why Nugget? Why the hell do you test me like this? Have I not been a good father?”

I rolled my eyes at his theatrics. “You’re the best, and you know it. I want to ride. I don’t think it's fair that I can’t because I'm a girl.”

Daddy shook his head. This was an argument we’d had a million times. “That's not the only reason Nugget, and you know it.”

I made a rude noise. “If I was your son and not your daughter, you’d be proud as hell of me right now.”

Daddy grunted. “It’d make no difference. I am proud of you, Nugget. So damn proud. But it scares the shit out of me that one wrong kick and you’d be taken from me too.” His voice cracked, and I knew he was thinking of Mama. She died when I was a baby. Brain aneurysm. Daddy had come home from work one day, found me sound asleep in my bassinet and Mama dead on the couch, a smile on her face.

But it had devastated him, and a little guilt ate away at my happiness. “I’m sorry. But it's what I want to do. I’ll wear all the protective gear. I’ll bail early. But Daddy, on the back of that bull? I felt more alive than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Daddy shook his head, but a small smile tilted his lips. “So damn headstrong. Alright, Nugge-”

---