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The evening unfolded with a lively array of events, such as team roping and saddle bronc riding, captivating the audience. Isobel was particularly amused by the clown's antics and perched on the brink of her seat, thoroughly engrossed in the performances.
"I've got to go," Bella Rose announced, pushing herself to her feet. "I won't be long."
As barrel racers took center stage, Isobel's gaze wandered to the back pen, hopeful for a glimpse of Bella Rose. Instead, Ryder captured her attention, standing stoically at the chutes' terminus. Her heart fluttered when she saw him lifting a grin towards her, beckoning her over to the railing with a subtle gesture.
Navigating through the crowd, she approached Ryder and couldn't help but notice two provocatively dressed women chatting him up, their hands gliding over his arm. When Ryder noticed Isobel advancing towards him, he flashed the women a fleeting smile and hopped over the railing to greet her.
"Hey there, Isobel. How's the rodeo treating you?" he greeted her.
With a mix of intrigue and skepticism in her eyes, she replied, "It's fascinating. I'm surprised at myself for never having experienced this."
Her eyes drifted past Ryder—were those women still there? "Who were they?"
He turned to look where she had gestured but found nobody. "Who do you mean?"
"The women just now."
"Oh! They're just buckle bunnies." Ryder chuckled at Isobel's puzzled expression.
"Buckle bunnies?" she echoed in confusion.
"Yeah, they're pretty common at these events—like groupies for cowboys," he explained with amusement.
Isobel's demeanor shifted as annoyance replaced her smile. "So they were after you?"
Ryder waved off the implication nonchalantly. "Nope. Told them I was already busy tonight—they took off after that."
Her arms folded defensively as she prodded further. "Busy with plans? Am I part of your schedule? And what exactly are those plans?"
Ryder reached out and gently warmed her arms with his hands as he reassured her: "Nothing at all, Isobel—I merely wanted them to leave me be. Those girls don't interest me; you're my sole focus."
Isobel's stance softened somewhat though she remained skeptical. "Okay," she acquiesced briefly withdrawing from their delicate conversation.
He redirected her attention with a cheeky grin. "Bulls are up after barrel racing—I'm seventh in line tonight. Pulled a rank bull for the ride, so manage your expectations."
Curiosity piqued again; she inquired cautiously: "What do you mean by 'drew a rank bull'?"
"Well, we draw numbers pre-rodeo; each bull has one—they decide our ride for us," Ryder clarified before adding proudly, "Tonight I drew Juju—that's number two."
"And is 'rank' supposed to be good... or bad?"
“This doesn’t bode well. It suggests he’s especially cruel and wildly unpredictable.”
“I understand.”
“Rose is about to ride. You should return to your seat so you don’t miss her.” Ryder gently brushed her hair back and planted a swift kiss on her forehead. “I just needed to glimpse your radiant face.” With a warm smile, he pivoted and vaulted over the railing.
With shaky legs, Isobel made her way back to her seat to await Rose.
“Next up we have Bella Rose Lebron guiding Ginger Quick Samson. She needs to outdo 14.83.”
Isobel watched as Rose, astride Samson, entered the arena. They executed a few sharp turns before Rose urged Samson into a gallop toward the first barrel. She maneuvered him expertly around the first, second, and then third barrel, before driving him towards the finish line at breakneck speed. The display of horsemanship from Rose held Isobel spellbound.
“Bella Rose clocks in at 14.79, catapulting her into the lead!” The announcer’s voice boomed as applause and cheers erupted from the crowd.
Isobel was overjoyed for Rose but felt a twinge of disappointment when, only three horses later, another rider clinched the lead with a time of 14.60, relegating Rose to second place.
The barrel racing concluded, and Isobel observed the flurry of activity around the chutes. Cowboys congregated along the rails while a truck rolled in to remove the barrels.
As the first bull burst from the chute, Isobel's heart seized with fear. Despite imagining this moment countless times before, witnessing it first-hand was an altogether different experience. The bull had hardly taken two strides before bucking off its rider who narrowly evaded its charge.
The next bull charged out as its rider clung on determinedly until the buzzer resounded throughout the arena whereupon he released his grip and scrambled towards safety.
A third bull reared violently within its chute, almost toppling over with its rider who was quickly pulled away by attendants. As soon as calm returned to the enclosure, he remounted only to be thrown off seconds later in the ring.
Bella Rose approached Isobel, spotting the trepidation etched upon her visage. “You look worried – what’s on your mind?”
“Have you witnessed this? These cowboys are... are... out of their minds! I knew it would be perilous but this is sheer madness.”
“What were you anticipating?” Rose asked gently.
“To be honest...” Isobel's gaze drifted back towards chaos unfolding at the chutes. “I hadn't fully grasped how ruthless these bulls could be until now... What if Ryder gets injured?”
Stolen story; please report.
Rose regarded Isobel solemnly before speaking, “Listen closely – bull riders have a mantra they live by: it’s not about whether they’ll get hurt; it’s a question of when.”
Isobel hunched forward, elbows planting firmly on her knees as she keenly observed the bulls. Her gaze followed Ryder as he mingled with the cowboys arrayed along the chutes. She watched attentively as he secured his safety vest and popped a mouth guard into place. Then, he busied himself with something atop the bull—a task obscured from her view.
The announcer's voice boomed, breaking through the anticipation of the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, our next rider comes back to us after a six-month hiatus caused by a rough tumble off a bull. We're talking about none other than Ryder Hayes—son of Tyler Hayes, the legendary three-time world champion. Tonight, Ryder, already a two-time world champion in his own right, takes on Bad Juju. Will this be the start of his journey to rival his father's legacy?"
Rose perked up suddenly, her eyes wide with recognition. "He's Ryder Hayes?"
Turning to her friend, Isobel replied with a touch of surprise, "Yes, what about it?"
"You never mentioned his last name was Hayes," Rose exclaimed.
"What does that change?" Isobel retorted swiftly. Her attention then snapped back to the arena. "Look sharp—he's about to take on Bad Juju."
A flutter of nerves racing through her, Isobel edged closer to the brink of her seat as she braced for Ryder's moment of truth in the rodeo arena.
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Ryder eased himself onto the back of the bull, heating up the rosin on his equipment as he went. Wren passed him the rope, and as he wound it around his hand, memories from six months back flickered in his mind's eye. He adjusted the wrap on the rope, making it slightly looser than before. Wren looked on with a puzzled expression at Ryder's adjustment. Once ready, Ryder raised his arm and gave a nod to signal he was set.
As the chute gate flung open, Juju exploded into the arena. Visions of Tornado mingled with the reality of Juju beneath him. A sharp pain surged through Ryder's shoulder; in response, he loosened his grip. The momentary lapse cost him dearly – he lost his handle on the rigging and was catapulted off Juju.
Rising to his feet to see Juju disappearing through the gate and out of the arena, Ryder whipped off his hat, struck it against his thigh in frustration, and exclaimed, "Damn it!"
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Isobel's heart skipped a beat as she watched Ryder tumble from the bull. A wave of relief washed over her the moment he sprang to his feet. Once he exited the arena, she pivoted towards Bella Rose.
"What were you trying to tell me earlier?" she inquired.
"Ryder's last name is Hayes," revealed Bella Rose with a hint of surprise in her voice.
Isobel shrugged, "You didn't ask, so it didn't cross my mind to mention it. Is that significant?"
"He's quite infamous in rodeo circles, and not entirely for noble reasons." Rose's tone grew serious.
"How so?" Isobel pressed.
"His dad? He was a legendary three-time world champion—people idolized him as one of rodeo's finest riders. But tragedy struck when he faced off with the deadliest bull on record. Ryder pleaded with him to forgo the ride, but his dad was adamant. It ended in disaster; he was gored fatally by the bull’s horn, right there in the arena—Ryder and his mother witnessed it all."
"That’s horrifying."
"But there’s more to it," Rose continued. "Since then, Ryder’s developed a reputation as one of the most daring riders. He rides as if he’s got something to prove. So far, he's claimed two world titles and has been chasing a third for years. And his notoriety doesn’t end there."
Curious, Isobel urged, "Tell me more, Bella Rose."
"Well, buckle bunnies seem to adore him; he has quite the history with them—and numerous barrel racers too. The man has been quite promiscuous; let’s just say that Isobel."
A sickening feeling twisted in Isobel’s stomach as uncertainty bloomed within her.
"Just the other day he mentioned I was the first girl he'd brought home," Isobel whispered faintly.
"I bet," scoffed Bella Rose, "The hotels, his truck or elsewhere—that's where he usually spent his nights."
Feeling nauseated by this revelation, Isobel wished she could flee the stadium.
"I needed to tell you,” continued Bella Rose softly “I felt you deserved to know."
Tears brimmed in Isobel’s eyes as she looked at her friend and gave an affirming but heavy-hearted nod. She remained seated but disconnected from her surroundings while other bull riders competed—one did not hold her attention until it was time for Wren who instantly got ejected by his bull at the first chance it gets.
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As Ryder paced the corridor, he muttered under his breath and struck the wall in frustration. That's when Becky, a dynamic barrel racer from the previous year's fling, strolled up to him.
"Rough luck on your draw tonight, Ryder. Juju is one tough competitor," she commented, sliding her hand along his arm with a sympathetic touch.
"Thanks, Becky," he responded with a curt nod, then pivoted away from her to proceed through the dusky tunnel.
Hustling to keep pace, Becky offered an invitation as they moved. "Ryder? How about joining me at my trailer later?"
Brushing off her suggestion with a polite yet firm decline, "I appreciate it, but not tonight," Ryder veered off through an exit at the tunnel's end, leaving Becky behind, her expression a blend of shock and confusion.
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Isobel and Rose lingered beside the truck when the fellows approached. Wren enveloped Bella Rose in an embrace, receiving a peck on the cheek.
"Rose, you were fantastic tonight."
"Thanks, Wren. Your luck ran out, though. Pity about that."
"True, some good runs and some bad."
The duo departed, leaving Ryder with Isobel. Ryder stepped closer, intending to encircle her waist with his arms. Isobel retreated hastily, shaking her head decisively.
"Ryder, I'm not just another one of your conquests."
"I never implied you were," said Ryder, edging closer yet again.
"Hold on, Ryder," she commanded, raising her hands defensively.
"What's the issue?"
"Where should I begin?" Isobel retorted, arms folded as she fixed him with a stern gaze.
"Why don't you enlighten me?" Ryder retorted sharply, mirroring her stance.
"How can you even consider mounting those beasts after what befell your father? Are you chasing danger deliberately? And your reputation speaks volumes. Whatever you expect from me, rest assured it won't happen."
"What exactly are you referring to?"
"All these rumors – the buckle bunnies, the barrel racers. Seems like you had a different girl in every town, night after night. Just another trophy to you? Well, let me set this straight – I refuse to be anyone's trophy."
"I've been upfront about my past mistakes; I haven't hidden anything from you." Ryder paused as he caught the meaning behind her words. "Hold on – are you a virgin?"
"That’s irrelevant to our discussion about you," Isobel deflected.
"You are a virgin," Ryder deduced with a chuckle. "Scared of something?"
Isobel maintained her composure. "Choosing to wait doesn't mean I'm scared. It means I live by certain principles and standards."
Ryder's chuckles turned into laughter. "Now it all makes sense – your hesitations around me are all because of your virtue."
"So someone preserving themselves for marriage wouldn't give themselves to me only because it's me? Because I'm that despicable?" He observed her with incredulity.
"Ryder, it’s obvious we're not destined for each other," he concluded with finality while tipping his hat respectfully. "Inform Wren I'll catch up with him tomorrow morning. Enjoy your evening."
Wrapping her arms around herself tightly, Isobel felt tears stream down as she watched Ryder's retreating form disappear into the night.
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Ryder meandered through the sea of vehicles, his eyes scanning for the distinctive white trailer emblazoned with a barrel racer decal. Spotting it at last, he approached and rapped on the door. A moment later, Becky popped her head out with a broad smile. She stepped aside, beckoning him in. Tipping his hat in acknowledgement, Ryder crossed the threshold and gently shut the door behind him.
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Bidding farewell to Wren with a carefree skip, Bella Rose headed towards her truck only to discover Isobel perched on the tailgate, her tears painting streaks of sorrow.
"Isobel, what's wrong?" Rose asked, urgency woven into her tone. "What happened? And where's Ryder?"
With a trembling voice, Isobel recounted the events and relayed Ryder's words. Rose enveloped her in a soothing embrace, offering silent comfort as Isobel wept.
"Come on," Rose whispered after a moment. "We should get some rest. Tomorrow, we'll rise with the dawn and make our way back home."
With a slight nod, still shadowed by grief, Isobel allowed herself to be guided by Bella into the sanctuary of the trailer.