Chapter 1

Tab stood wide-legged, one booted foot braced on each side of the chute. The black-brown back between her heels twitched as one of the other riders fished the end of her rope beneath the bull and poked it up to Tab’s waiting hand. She grasped the end and slid it through the loop, drawing the rope tight. The bell gave a harsh clang as the bull shifted.

They called this one Big Trouble. He fit the name, more Brahma than Angus in spite of the dark color of his loose hide. He moved restively, knowing, just as she did, what came next. Slowly she eased down until her butt met the wide back. She gripped the rope tightly with her rosined glove and nodded. As ready as I’m gonna be.

“Cowgirl up,” someone said.

She listened with half an ear to the announcer’s chatter, not believing most of it.

“Glue your eyeballs on chute six, ladies and gentlemen. Tab Conrad is about to make a grand entrance on Big Trouble. This little package of dynamite is a rider to watch, the new kid on the block with Super Glue in her Wranglers. A good ride today will have her in the top ten for the year, and a good ride is what you’re likely to see.”

Big Trouble’s normal pattern had him clear the chute with one prodigious leap before he went into a hard, tight spin. Only trouble was, he didn’t always do the normal thing. She had to be ready for normal, but also for any other trick he might try. The gate swung wide. With a grunting roar, the bull erupted out of the chute. He came down hard on his forefeet, swinging massive hindquarters in a wide arc that had his spine twisting like a wet hemp rope.

Tab rocked with his motions, gripping with her upper thighs, while she managed to inscribe the required arcs with her spurs, shoulder to flank and back again. She waved her free hand high, so the judge could see she wasn’t grabbing anything. Even through her heavy leather glove, the rope bit into her palm as she gripped, holding tight to the only thing between her and a wild flight to the arena’s muddy surface.

Her hat went flying, a pink Frisbee spinning away on the momentum of the bull’s next jump. He made four more of them before he went into his trademark spin. Gaze fixed on the flexing muscles in his massive neck and shoulders, Tab forecast his actions instants before he moved.

When he launched into the spin, she was ready, leaning into it just enough to fight the drag of centrifugal force. Each time his forelegs hit the ground, the blow ricocheted upward through her body. It felt like riding a jack hammer. Her butt and thighs would be bruised tomorrow, even though she didn’t really bounce. She bit down hard on the mouth guard, feeling her head jerk on her neck from the power of the bull’s wild leaps.

The ride took forever. At last, as if from a great distance, she heard the whistle. She let her free arm drop, grabbing the rope with her second hand, too. It was time to bail off, but where was anyone to decoy him away?

Then she remembered. Even with his blunted horns, the black bull was dangerous. Half the clowns were scared of him. He’d even bowled over a couple of horses when some of the ropers and arena men had tried to chivvy him out of the way a couple of rodeos ago. He was one tough customer.

I’m on my own. Wait, no, not quite. There’s Wes.

Baggy pants flapping, the lanky clown darted in front of the bull, waved an oversized bandana in front of the beast then dodged away. Lowering his massive head, Big Trouble eyed the darting man. The bull paused for an instant, pawed the ground with one huge hoof, slinging dirt behind him.

She read his actions as her signal to break free. She eased her grip, feeling the rope slide through first her hand and then the loop, dragged by the weight of the bell. When it dropped, her one handle was gone. She pushed down hard with both hands on the bull’s hump to launch clear.

With Trouble’s next leap, she sailed off, briefly floating, only to fall hard on the one patch of arena the plow gang had missed. Feels like cement or maybe cast iron.Breath rushed out of her in a whoosh. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a bright flash as Wes zigzagged past, drawing the bull’s attention from her until she could get up. Gasping and gagging, she scrambled in a desperate effort to get her feet under her.