Page 5 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
One of the best.
He knows what he’s doing.
Somehow none of those reminders comforted her.
It was silly because it wasn’t like she was his girlfriend or wife. She had very little skin in the outcome, right? But tonight, it sure felt like she did.
She held her breath as Anders dropped down on the back of the bull and disappeared.
*
Anders straddled thetop of the chute and stared down at Bone Breaker, who seemed intent on showing him why he was a one hundred percent bull before he even nadded up and dropped down.
Rank bull.
And the one he’d wanted.
He was in first place going into tonight, and he intended to stay there.
Eyes on the bull’s broad back, Anders adjusted his gloves, his helmet, his vest. His mouth guard was in. He’d tied his boots on. He’d taped one shoulder that had a muscle pull and wrapped his left hamstring and the wrist of his hold hand that had the same issues. But mostly he was healthy. And lucky.
Living his dream, the only career he’d ever wanted. Bull rider and cowboy.
He breathed in and out, touched the tattoo on his shoulder of a wolf, symbolizing his family—all of them including his father, mother and brother who’d died years ago but remained in his heart—and in the star that celebrated his state: the Lone Star State. His ritual always finished with the tat on his forearm. Carpe diem. All of them were covered up by his thick shirt and the protective vest. The ritual was for him. Private.
Then he dropped down. Kicked his feet back, let his thighs grip the bull to get a feel for the energy. He wrapped his hold hand and adjusted his seat, rocked back and forth to get the center of gravity. He watched tapes before his rides, but not nearly as obsessively as many of the others.
He felt if a bull rider tried to set a trap for a bull—outthink it, essentially—the only one falling in the trap would be the rider.
He nodded. The best sound in the world, the slide of metal, and the game began.
Bone Breaker launched out of the chute. Dropped his head and kicked near vertical and then spun to the left. Anders was ready, nearly floating above the bull, eyes on the shoulders, hand held high to counter the shifts and spins. He was perfect until he got a tick behind and then it was sheer will that kept him seated. He would not let go. He would not give up. He muscled back to his center of gravity, just as Bone Breaker, sensing victory, dipped low again, nearly tossing Anders forward over his head, and then the bull reared his head back.
Anders was ready. He’d already begun countering the move and the massive head missed him. He saw the light before he heard the bell. The crowd drowned out everything but his own sense of triumph.
And then he had to look for a clear exit. Bone Breaker spun right and Anders released, using energy stored in his tensed thighs to launch himself left toward the arena fencing. Bone Breaker ran and bucked a few more times as if still pissed and showing who was boss.
Me tonight, my man.
Anders hurtled to the top of the fence, waved to the crowd and dropped down backstage.
Kane was there. Other riders. Hugging. Slapping. Bone Breaker hit 47 points. Higher than Anders had earned for his ride. Still, sticking the full eight was always a cause for celebration as was a score in the nineties.
He had time to get his helmet off and mouth guard out. Then it was the winner’s circle, pictures, a check, more pictures. Another buckle. All of it good. But not why he rode.
He wanted to ride.
He needed to ride.
Freedom.
For some reason the word Whiskey had uttered, dead serious, before she rocked his world a few months ago at his brothers’ double wedding popped in his head.
Was that why he rode? Freedom?
He wasn’t sure that was it. He’d always wanted to be a bull rider like his oldest brother Axel, who’d only got two years on the tour before quitting to come home and raise him after their father’s unexpected death.
Axel’s sacrifice and truncated career always burned an ache in his chest. Every win was one Axel hadn’t had a chance at because he was a good brother and an even better man. A man Anders aspired to be.
