One Southern Cowboy - Jennifer Youngblood

Prologue

“Easy now,” Jaxson murmured under his breath as he wedged his gloved hand into the rigging handle attached to Blue Streak, the wildest and meanest bronc on the circuit. The heat of the restless horse seeped through his jeans as it writhed and shifted beneath him like liquid lightning. Blood thrashed against Jaxson’s temples, sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins. If Mama had the slightest inkling of what he was doing, she’d have a dying duck fit. The only way Mama would find out was if he got injured, and Jaxson couldn’t let that happen.

He tried to think calming thoughts, hoping his feelings would somehow transmit to the horse. It didn’t seem to be working. Blue Streak couldn’t wait to buck him off his back. Jaxson sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, offering a silent prayer as he tried to clear his mind from the commotion and noise of the arena.

On his first night back after several months of not riding, the luck of the draw had paired him with Blue Streak. It would either be his triumph or his downfall. With Blue Streak, there was no in-between. Jaxson had last ridden the bronc in the spring. He’d managed to stay on five of the required eight seconds before getting bucked off and narrowly missed being trampled by Blue Streak’s vicious hoofs. Tonight, Jaxson hoped to stay on until the whistle blew. The good news was that Blue Streak was known for being difficult, so the judges would take that into consideration when assessing the score. One hundred being the top score, fifty percent of the points were attributed to how hard the horse bucked and the other fifty to how well the cowboy rode.

Hector, the guy in charge of opening the chute, threw Jaxson a sideways grin, revealing a line of yellow, brittle teeth, stained with tobacco. “Better hold onto your grits, Cowboy. Ole’ Blue Streak’s madder than a puffed toad tonight.” He turned his head sideways and spit into the dirt.

“I hear ya,” Jaxson said offhandedly as he tightened his hold on the handle. He glanced down at the horse. “For the next eight seconds, me and you are stuck like glue,” he vowed.

“Well, you got plenty of nerve,” Hector chuckled admiringly. A glimmer of amusement lit his watery eyes. “If I had to choose between riding Blue Streak and riding a jack hammer. I think I’d pick the jack hammer.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Jaxson said dryly.

The announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers. “Our next cowboy is what we call a weekend warrior. He was making quite a name for himself in the local circuit before dropping off the map. It’s good to have him back with us.”

Mama’s worrying was what prompted Jaxson to quit riding. The only reason he was here tonight was because he was sick and tired of hearing his cousin Lucas brag about winning the top slot at the rodeo in Murfreesboro three weeks ago. Jaxson was no dummy. He knew that he’d played right into Lucas’s plan. It seemed to be Lucas’s ambition in life to compete with Jaxson on every front. He could hear Daddy now … If Lucas jumped off a bridge, would you do it?

Probably, Jaxson grunted. He and Lucas were close to the same age and had been rivals since birth. Even so, riding because of Lucas was both idiotic and stupid. Or had competing with Lucas been an excuse to do something that a part of Jaxson had been longing to do for months? Few things could compare to the thrill of this extreme sport. Even now, when he was in danger of getting his butt thrown off an ornery horse, he was still glad he was here. He’d forgotten how much he’d missed riding.

The announcer continued, “Jaxson Romeo comes to us from Franklin, Tennessee. All of you eligible ladies in the stands need to pay close attention to this one. At six foot three, he’s handsome, rich, and single.”

Jaxson grunted. Handsome, rich? Seriously? Who was this announcer?

The chute opened and Blue Streak charged forward. The force pushed Jaxson onto his back. He kept his spurs above the horse’s shoulders as was required. Positioning his spurs any lower before the horse made its initial jump out of the chute would get him disqualified. A thousand thoughts about nothing flitted through Jaxson’s mind as he held onto the rigging for dear life, his body getting tossed around like a rag doll. He felt his

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