The truth was, he hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Jodie left him back in Chattanooga. If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t given anyone a chance. But there was no time to think about that now. His ride was coming up and he had to get his mind straight. “I’d better go get ready,” he said, touching the brim of his hat with his fingertips and nodding in her direction.
“I’ll be lookin’ out for you,” she called after him.
He strolled over to the bucking chute and surveyed the animals corralled behind it, ready to go. He got to pick the one he wanted to ride and by now knew them all pretty well. The red roan was a solid performer, but tended to travel in a straight line with a standard bucking style. If he wanted to beat Buck’s score, he’d need a horse with more of a twist to its stride.
His eyes landed on a gray quarter horse named Benny. At first glance, Benny looked like a mild-mannered old boy, but he knew differently. He pointed to Benny, and the cowboy with the rope nodded in acknowledgement. That done, now he just had to focus, to concentrate on what he had to do.
A group of children ran past with a bucket of popcorn, spilling kernels on the muddy ground as they went. They laughed and chattered amongst themselves, excited that the rodeo was in town and they got to watch the cowboys, arguing about who would win and who would be thrown. Dalton remembered doing the same with his friends when he was a boy in Chattanooga. He’d loved the rodeo and never missed it if he could help it.
He’d always wanted to be one of the cowboys who got to ride the wildest broncos around, and when he started on the circuit it was all he could do to keep from pinching himself. He couldn’t believe he could ride for a living and have people cheer for him, look up to him, admire him.
But lately, things had been different. Ever since Jodie called to tell him she was through waiting for him to come home and had fallen for someone else, the spark had gone out of everything. The rides, the crowds, the bright lights – none of it filled him with the same excitement any more.
Buck stepped through a gate nearby and brushed off his chaps with both hands, dust swirling around him in a soft cloud. He spotted Dalton and grinned. “How’d ya like that, huh?”
“Sure was a good ride, Buck. It’ll be hard to beat.”
Buck raised an eyebrow. “But you’re gonna try, I bet.”
Dalton chuckled. “I sure will.”
Buck leaned back against the fence and crossed his ankles. “How’s yer shoulder?”
Dalton lifted his arm and circled it around a few times, stretching out his shoulder with a grimace. “It’s been better.”
“Well, good luck to ya.”
“Thanks, Buck. You staying to watch?”
“Ya bet. Wouldn’t miss it.” Buck’s eyes glinted and he tipped his hat. “Gotta watch ya lose, boy.”
Dalton laughed and strode toward the chute where Benny awaited him. He and Buck always teased each other that way. But after each event was over, they were first and foremost friends and usually ended the night playing blackjack over glasses of coke, each balancing bags of ice on the various body parts that hurt the worst.
“You ready?” asked a cowboy in a black Cowboy hat.
Dalton nodded, his eyes focused on the gray in front of him. The horse stamped a foot and pranced as far sideways as he could within the confines of the fence palings, breath expelling from distended nostrils clouding the cool fall air. He’d done this so many times before, he knew what was coming, and Dalton saw the whites of his eyes as he snorted and shook his head.
Time stood still.
Then the gate swung open, Benny leaped forward and Dalton dug his heels into the horse’s sides. Benny swung left and spun in a circle, his heels kicking high above his head. Dalton held on tight, leaning back and forth, rotating with the movements of the animal beneath him. The noise of the crowd cheering him on swelled in his consciousness.
Then the eight-second buzzer sounded. The loudspeakers declared that it was a good ride and Dalton released his breath in a huff of relief. But as he loosened his grip on the strap, Benny spooked and bucked harder than ever as he swiveled to the right, crashing against the railings of the arena fence.
Pain shot through Dalton’s leg and he cried out, grabbing it as the horse galloped out from under him. He felt his head spin, and everything faded to black as he landed with a thud on the grass to the gasps of the crowd.
Keep reading…
Also by Vivi Holt
CONTEMPORARY SERIES
Make-Believe
Make-Believe Fiancé
Make-Believe Wedding
Make-Believe Honeymoon
Make-Believe Husband
Cowboys & Debutantes
Dalton
Eamon
Parker
HISTORICAL SERIES
Cowboys & Debutantes (Historical)
Hattie
Pearl
Paradise Valley
Of Peaks and Prairies
Winds of Paradise
Lost in Laredo
Cheyenne Reckoning
Forgotten Trails
Cutter’s Creek
The Strong One
The Betrothed
Cherished
Season of Love
Captivated
Beguiled
Orphan Brides Go West
Mail Order Bride: Christy
Mail Order Bride: Ramona
Mail Order Bride: Holly
Visit my website at www.viviholt.com for an updated list of my books
About the Author
Vivi Holt was born in Australia. She grew up in the country, where she spent her youth riding horses at Pony Club, and adventuring through the fields and rivers around the farm. Her father was a builder, turned saddler, and her mother a nurse, who stayed home to raise their four children.
After graduating from a degree in International Relations, Vivi moved to Atlanta, Georgia to work for a year. It was there that she met her husband, and they were married three years later. She spent seven years living in Atlanta and travelled to various parts of the United States during that time, falling in love with the beauty of that immense country and the American people.
Vivi also studied for a Bachelor of Information Technology, and worked in the field ever since until becoming a full-time writer in 2016. She now lives in Brisbane, Australia with her husband and three small children. Married to a Baptist pastor, she is very active in her local church.
Follow Vivi Holt
www.viviholt.com
vivi@viviholt.com
Copyright © 2018 by Vivi Holt
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum