Back in the Saddle (Jessica Brodie Diaries #1)(24)

Will you marry me?

“I thought I saw you earlier near those big bulls in the corner. Are yours those? I mean, uh, those yours?” I pointed to the larger five bulls, trying to direct his probing gaze away from my tomfoolery.

He looked where I was pointing and then back at me. He spared a glance for my drenched clothes. “Yes, those are mine. Did you need a shirt? I’m sure I have a spare one in my trailer.”

I looked down at the mess that was me. I really knew how to make an impression. “Oh no, I’m okay. It will dry in no time. Thanks, though.”

As soon as the words cleared my mouth I wanted to punch myself in the face. I just passed up a chance to go back with him to his trailer!

Trying to keep him here and undo my stupidity, I asked, “What... Ah, what were you saying about the small bulls?”

He was studying me with a blank face. I could feel myself flush. I still wasn’t able to look at him without all my nerves feeling like live wires running through my body. His eyebrows were black like his hair and a little bushy. Not as bad as Colin Farrell, but it gave his piercing blue eyes a dramatic depth.

His nose was straight and strong with high cheek bones and a square jaw. His skin was bronzed, as a sun God should be. With the breadth of his shoulders and trim waist, I wondered how he didn’t fall over when he shifted his weight. What’s more, he was a man’s man. There was a masculine quality about him that made me want to faint at his feet. Unlike the model and actor boys in L.A., it was refreshing to meet a man as devastatingly handsome as this without feeling like he was more woman than I was. If his brother got the looks, that guy must hurt the eyes.

“The small bulls, yes ma’am.” He turned his attention to a smallish brindle bull in front of us. “This one here probably weighs about 1000 - 1500 pounds. There are smaller animals on the ranch, but this is a small bull for the circuit. The cowboy you were looking at is young with very little experience. He’s thinking he got lucky today because of the size. He thinks small means an easy ride.”

I had to bite my tongue so I didn’t spit out a sexual pun. Instead, I said, “What do you mean by drawing?”

He looked at me in confusion. “Is this your first rodeo?”

I blushed. “Yes. Sorry, I should have warned you. Yeah, this is my first one. I wasn’t impressed by the roping thing.”

He laughed a deep, throaty laugh. “Was that the reason for the scowl? I wondered why everyone kept looking at you.” He laughed again.

The world paused as those words sank in. On one hand, he’d noticed me in the stands! Joy! On the other hand, it meant I was probably more expressive in my dislike than I thought. Oops!

But he noticed me!

“Probably why they were looking at me, yeah,” I muttered, hiding my face.

He was still chuckling. “Did anyone explain why that event is in the rodeo? Everything here has a purpose. Every event is taken from life on a ranch. Well, except bull riding, maybe. That is taken from life on the ranch, but of the drunken variety.”

“Someone tried to explain the roping.”

“The calves aren’t hurt in that event. No animal is hurt in any of these events. Discomfort sometimes, but not hurt.”

“How do you know? Have you ever been running at full speed when someone roped you from behind?” That argument seemed to work with JP, so I thought I would stick to it.

“Well yes, actually.” He was smiling. “My brother was training a horse. He’d been working with barrels, but when he saw me, he decided to go for the live target. I saw him coming and ran like hell!” He laughed, reliving the moment. “I was nowhere near fast enough. My brother ran me down, caught both my feet perfectly, pulled and strapped the rope to Hemlock—that was his horse at the time.

“You see, horses will take direction, but for something as intricate as chasing down animals, then keeping the rope taught when you’ve caught one—well, that takes a lot of training and patience. It’s important to get it right. You gotta make sure you don’t hurt the calf. To make sure it takes the least amount of time possible. That’s why this event is timed. The faster the better for this event, and for life on the ranch.”

By the end, I could see the passion in his eyes. He cared about this stuff; about daily operations on a ranch, getting it right and doing it well. I had a feeling it didn’t matter what it was; if he was doing something, he put his all behind it. I respected that.

I also dipped right back into the naughty pool. Hard to help myself when standing so close to a freaking hunk.

He held my gaze for a moment, probably waiting to see if I was following along, before continuing. “Anyway, my brother’s horse was still being trained, so he wasn’t great at the discipline of applying just the right amount of pressure. You see, you don’t want to leave slack, because the calf will get away, possibly hurting itself in the process. Pull too hard, though, and the little critter is dragged across the dirt. Also bad. You gotta get it ju-ust right. And Hemlock, my brother’s horse, didn’t. My brother got my feet, slapped my face in the dirt, then started dragging’ me across the ranch! So yes ma’am, I certainly know what it’s like. Can’t say I liked it too well, but it didn’t actually hurt.”

I was again struck dumb by his smile. All I could manage was, “Hmmmm.”

“Well anyway, about the bulls. Some of the littler bulls, like this one here, can twist and turn and move around in ways to buck off the rider. Some of the stronger bulls try to only use their strength to get the rider off. They don't twist and move all that much because of their raw power. And mostly, that does work. But all you have to do in that situation is hold on. Get your strength up, and it’s do-able. Never easy, make no mistake. But sometimes do-able.”