Miss Reba. When I win that hundred dollars, I’m gonna buy you the biggest box of chocolates you’ve ever seen in your life.” The fact that he thought she looked like a girl who would love a big box of chocolates annoyed her. But when he stumbled over a chair on the way to the mechanical bull pit and almost fell, she couldn’t help getting up and going after him. If he couldn’t walk, he certainly couldn’t ride.
A crowd of spectators already surrounded the bull pit, and as she weaved her way through, she ran into Boone Murphy, who was part owner of the hardware store. Boone was a big strapping blond with a contagious personality.
“Hey, Reba, I thought that was you on the dance floor. But then I thought, ‘Nah, it couldn’t be. Reba never leaves the boardinghouse except for special occasions.’”
“Well, as you can see, I left the boardinghouse. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure my date doesn’t kill himself.” She continued to push her way through and three more people stopped her to ask what the “special occasion” was to get her in Cotton-Eyed Joe’s. It made her realize just how reclusive she had become. When she got to the front, she found Ty lined up with the other contestants.
“I really think this is a bad idea, Ty,” she said. “Why don’t we try the two-step again? I think I’m getting the hang of it.”
“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, Miss Reba, but I don’t think my toes can take it.”
“Okay then, let’s go back to the boardinghouse and I’ll make us some coffee and heat up the leftover cinnamon rolls from this morning.”
He visibly paled. “Uhh . . . I’m pretty full up. But once I win the hundred, I’ll take you back.”
“I’ll take her.”
A familiar voice had her glancing down the line to see Valentine. She would’ve thought he was just a spectator if not for the number being pinned to the back of his black western shirt by Maisy.
“What are you doing?” Reba asked.
He shrugged. “I decided you were right. I need to stop being a spectator.”
“Are you crazy? You’re a writer, not a . . . rider.”
“It’s a mechanical bull. I think I can handle it.”
She shook her head. “You could if you were paying a few bucks to ride it for fun, but I’ve witnessed these contests before. The guy who operates the bull doesn’t mess around when a trophy and prize money are on the line. So both of you need to stop being arrogant fools and get those numbers off.”
Neither man made a move to do what she asked, and Maisy chimed in. “Best to just leave them alone, Reba. I’ve learned men and their egos need to figure things out on their own.”
Reba threw up her hands. “Fine, do what you want. See if I care. But I won’t be delivering meals to your rooms when you break your fool necks.” She turned to leave, but more people had crowded in and there wasn’t an inch to shove through. She was forced to watch the competition.
She turned out to be right about the mechanical bull operator. He usually kept things slow and easy for the novices who wanted to try their hand at bull riding. Now he wasn’t as nice. He worked the joystick that made the bull buck and spin as he caused one contestant after another to fly off into the big padded cushions of the pit. A group of four judges sat behind him, timing the rides and holding up cards with numbers from 1 to 10.
Ty ended up with a score of 22. Which wasn’t too bad since he didn’t stay on the entire eight seconds. When he staggered up from the pit, he looked a little green around the gills. Reba wasn’t surprised when he quickly ducked under the back ropes and headed toward the bathrooms. She might’ve tried to follow him to make sure he was okay if Valentine’s ride wasn’t coming up.
She shouldn’t be worried about the arrogant man, but damned if she wasn’t. Ty was a country boy who had grown up riding and couldn’t stay on. Valentine was a city boy who had only one summer of riding under his belt and that had been fifteen years ago. What if he flew off and hit his head on the edge of the pit like Dean White had done that one year? Dean still had the