Two To Wrangle (Hotel Rodeo #2)(31)

“What do you mean ‘wreck’?” she asked.

“A wreck is when bad shit happens, but it’s inevitable if you ride long enough. Everybody knows that. At its best, bull riding is beautiful to behold, but when things go bad, it makes your blood run cold.”

“I still can’t understand why you did it,” she said.

“Ever heard of an adrenaline junkie?” Ty asked.

“Of course,” she said. “But I always picture those as the crazy people who free-climb buildings and cliff faces.”

“Not the same at all,” Ty said. “I’m not sayin’ you can’t get hurt or even killed climbing rocks or buildings, but it’s not like the rock is out to get you. If you mess with a fifteen-hundred-pound bull, you’re eventually gonna get the horns. Knowing he can kill you is the ultimate adrenaline rush.”

“You’ve never struck me as a thrill seeker, Ty.”

“I’m a different man now than what I was back then. Part of the change is age and wisdom. Part of it’s a lifestyle choice. Eight years ago I chose to leave it behind.”

“Do you miss it?” she asked. “The adrenaline? The excitement?”

“Sometimes I do,” he admitted. “The bull arena is purely a male domain. There’s something raw and primitive about it. There’s not much of that kind of thing left in our modern world. I guess that’s part of the appeal—for both the competitors and the spectators.”

His words made her think again of the ancient Roman gladiators.

Ty tilted his head back to the chutes. “Zac’s up next. Even with a bad wrist, that ol’ geezer will show you how it’s s’posed to be done.”

“Old geezer? He doesn’t look any older than you, Ty,” Monica remarked.

“He’s thirty-four, but that equates to ’bout a hundred and two in bull-rider years. It’s not the years but the mileage that counts in this game, and Zac’s got a lot of long, hard miles. He’s broken a dozen bones, or maybe I should say a baker’s dozen now, and had half as many concussions. Don’t know how much longer he can last in this business.”

“Why doesn’t he retire and do something else?” Monica asked.

“ ’Cause he needs the money. He can turn his hand to most any kind of ranch work, but the pay is shitty. Trouble is, he isn’t in the money as often as he used to be. It’s that hard mileage I was talkin’ about.”

The announcer broke in again, introducing Zac and his bull, Super Spin Cycle. Once more, Monica’s eyes were glued to the chutes as Zac raised his arm and gave a nod to the gateman. True to his name, the bull came out of the gate twisting and turning like a cyclone, but this time the rider held his own.

Monica sucked in a breath and mentally counted down the seconds. As the buzzer sounded, she leaped up from her seat with a squeal, only to have it die in her throat. “My God, Ty! What’s wrong? Why isn’t he getting off?”



Ty had watched his buddy with pride. Even riding with the wrong hand, Zac’s body had moved in near-perfect synchrony with the bull, foiling the animal’s every frantic attempt to unseat him. Zac might not finish at the top of the rider pyramid, but at least he wouldn’t be going home with empty pockets. As the whistle sounded, Zac glanced up in triumph, but his moment of victory was transformed almost instantly into a cataclysm of chaos.

“He’s hung up.” Ty bit out, eyes glued to the scene below. Zac was hanging from the bull’s side, feet scrambling for purchase as the animal continued to plunge and kick. He’d seen his share of hangups over the years, but this one was going south real fast.

Once more, the bullfighters surrounded the bull, but none seemed to be able to get close enough to untie the rope. While one cowboy moved in to release the flank strap, Kade distracted the front end of the bull, moving in toward its head, only to get hooked by a horn and tossed ten feet into the air.

“Fuck this!” Instincts firing, Ty took to his feet, vaulting over seats and spectators, then climbing the panels surrounding the arena. With his heart pounding in his chest, Ty ran straight to the bull’s head and grabbed both horns. While he wrestled with the front end of the animal, two bullfighters climbed onto its back in an attempt to subdue the bucking beast.

Zac came free, slumping to the ground. The bull promptly spun on the fallen cowboy. Ty shouted, frantically waving his hat. The bull hesitated, staring Ty in the eye for a seemingly endless moment, as if deciding where to target his rage, then charged. Ty leaped to the side, but his booted foot slipped in the dirt. Next came the sound of crunching bone as their two bodies collided, followed by the sensation of his body hitting the ground in a chest-crushing impact that left him gasping in agony for his next breath. The vision of his lifeless father, lying likewise covered in dirt and manure, invaded his memory just before the world faded to black.



Monica sat frozen in terror as the bull, now freed of its rider, turned on Ty. Her stomach twisted and her fingernails pierced her palms as the enraged animal lowered its horned head in a stare-down. The bull charged, but rather than hooking and tossing Ty as he had Kade, he plowed straight into Ty’s chest.

She stood, eyes straining to see past the bull to the body lying limp in the dirt. A horse and rider moved into view, roping the animal’s horns. The bull snorted and shook its head, still fighting as the cowboys dragged it back toward the chutes. The audience watched in silence until the gate slammed shut with a resonating rattle of metal.