Page 6 of The Wildest Ride

Lil groaned.

Gran added, “You’re the best there’s ever been.”

The old woman wasn’t pulling any punches.

Lil’s voice flirted with the edge of hysteria. “Says a nobody’s grandma with a stopwatch and pasture.”

“‘Nobody’s grandma?’ Excuse you.” She pointed to the third line of the flyer. “Did you see the prize? There are no points required, just a qualifier. It’s part of the whole thing. LikeAmerican Idol.”

Lil went ahead and dove fully into hysteria. When she spoke, her voice squeaked high to low like a pubescent boy.“American Idol?”

Gran’s next words had the same effect as being hit by a bucket of cold water: “You could ride a bull.”

Lil’s body froze and tingled at the same time.

She hadn’t stepped foot in an arena in years and had never competed in a PBRA-sponsored rodeo.

She had walked away a junior champion and ridden pro a few times in the Indian National Rodeo rodeos. Still, the world of rodeo mostly had forgotten about her—except for the few administrators who would always remember her as the girl who had tried and failed, over and over, to get women into the PBRA’s, the Professional Bull Riders Association, rough stock events. Because in Lil’s mind, what did it matter if she won every other event if she couldn’t win on the back of a bull?

She was skilled enough to have made a good living between women’s events in the PBRA and the Indian rodeos, but if she couldn’t ride a bull under the banner of PBRA, she didn’t want any of it.

So she rode for a college scholarship and then quit when she graduated instead. And then she’d come back to the ranch. End of story. And that was good enough for her.

Since her retirement, rodeo had opened up a lot, and she was happy for the younger generation. A handful of girls had even been allowed on top of bulls. None had made it far, but Lil knew it was only a matter of time.

She shook her head with a sigh. “I can’t, Gran. I’m rusty as an old nail, and there’s just too much to do around here. Besides, the ranch is too much for Tommy and Piper to run on their own.”

Gran snorted. “You work in the office most of the day, anyway.”

“Gran, you don’t have the energy for it,” Lil insisted.

“Energy? Hell, after more years of doing it than you’ve been alive, I could do the ranch’s books half asleep—and have! I just let you take over because it’s a snoozefest.”

“Snoozefest? Gran, do you hear yourself?” Lil turned to Piper and Tommy for help. “You don’t support this, do you?”

Both shrugged.

Piper said, “We trust Gran.”

Gran crossed her arms in front of her chest and lifted a brow. “Theytrust me.”

“It’s a lot more work,” Lil tried.

Tommy said, “We’ve been doing more and more of it while you’ve been up there pinching pennies.”

Lil’s cheeks heated, but she didn’t contradict him. He and Piper had been pulling more and more of her weight as she tried to do the impossible.

The impossible that she wasn’t very good at. The impossible that Gran could do in her sleep—which was true. Gran ran a tight ship, whatever ship she came to, and she had been far more organized in running Swallowtail Ranch than Lil could ever hope to be.

They had supported her through the last sad and stumbling years. Participating in this crazy scheme was what they were asking of her in return.

Mentally sweating, Lil pushed her chair back, its legs screeching across the floor, and stood up. Turning around, she headed to the door without saying another word.

“Where are you going, Lilian?” Gran only used her full name when she got stern.

Lil stopped midstep. “I’m going to clear out my desk,” she said.

Behind her back, Gran smiled. Lil didn’t have to see it to know it was true. Gran always smiled when she got what she wanted, and she always got what she wanted.

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