----------------------------------------
Day Six - Ryder and Isobel stood in a long, dim hallway, his fingers intertwined with hers, her forehead resting gently against his chest. Ryder raised his right hand, tilting Isobel's chin until their lips brushed together.
"What’s on your mind?" Ryder whispered, cupping her face tenderly.
With tears threatening to spill and her lower lip trembling slightly, she replied through a choked voice, "Please promise you'll come back to me."
Ryder enveloped her in a tight embrace, holding her close against his chest, his hand cradling the back of her head. "I will, Isobel," he assured softly before pressing a kiss to her hair.
They stayed like that, lost in the moment, until it was time for Ryder to join the other competitors for the opening ceremonies.
Wren approached with Rose's hand in his and gently tapped Ryder on the shoulder. "It's time to go." Then Wren led Rose away to say their own goodbyes.
Pulling Isobel back slightly, Ryder saw tears streaming down her cheeks. He cupped her face again, wiping them away with his thumbs, taking a moment to etch her face into his memory. "I love you, Baby," he said, his voice filled with emotion. He kissed her goodbye—a kiss brimming with love and passion—before walking away as his own tears began to fall.
----------------------------------------
Isobel and Rose finally reached the concession area where Grace, Celeste, and Sam awaited them. The moment Grace saw Isobel's troubled face, she embraced her daughter tightly. Then, pulling back slightly and holding Isobel’s hands, she gazed into her eyes.
"Honey, why don't you just tell Ryder you don't want him to ride?"
With a firm shake of her head, Isobel responded, "He has to do this, Mom."
Grace's confusion was evident. "I don't get it. If this is causing both of you so much distress, why not just withdraw from the event?"
Celeste moved close to Isobel, placing a comforting hand on each of her shoulders. "Rodeo cowboys, especially bull riders, are a unique breed. They have something in their blood that pulls them in; that's the only way I can describe it. If Ryder walks away now, it'll change him forever."
"But if he rides, that might change him forever too," Grace protested, still clinging to Isobel's hands.
"Ryder needs to close this chapter of his life. Riding that bull will give him that closure. Otherwise, the 'what ifs' will gnaw at him endlessly," Celeste explained.
Grace looked pained. "How can you say that after what happened to your husband? What if Ryder ends up drawing that bull?"
"I won't sugarcoat it; this is agonizing for me too," Celeste admitted. "But I understand this life well enough to know my son needs to face that bull."
As Sam and Rose joined them, they nodded in agreement next to Isobel.
"It's tough to explain and even harder to grasp," Sam began. "My father and brothers were bull riders too; walking away was never an option for them."
"Wren would never have done it either," Bella Rose declared. "It's like they would feel defeated somehow."
"Yes," Sierra added thoughtfully, "it's a part of their essence, like breathing air. Some even compare it to an addiction; they can't function until they get their next ride."
"Sam put it perfectly," Celeste agreed. "We may not fully comprehend what drives them because we don't live it ourselves. But we've seen it enough to know they need it as much as we need air."
Grace surveyed the women around her as they spoke, gradually nodding in reluctant understanding. "I still don't truly get it, but I see what you're saying now."
The group chuckled together at this admission. "Then you're right there with us," Celeste said warmly as she draped an arm around Grace’s shoulders. "Now let's go find our seats."
----------------------------------------
In the heart of the arena, amid the swirling smoke and blaring fanfare, the remaining bull riders advanced one by one, each dipping their hand into a blue velvet bag to retrieve a wooden token etched with a number that would seal their fate for the evening.
Ryder, powerfully aware that one number could mirror the tragic destiny of his father, anxiously reached into the bag. With trembling fingers, he extracted a small piece of wood and revealed it to Bob, the ringman. He glanced down and saw the ominous number 13 glaring back at him. Speaking into his walkie-talkie, Bob relayed the information to the announcer, who would then reveal to the audience which bull had been drawn.
"Well, folks, we have an unexpected twist tonight. As many of you know, Ryder Hayes's father, Tyler, was a beloved three-time world champion. Sadly, Tyler lost his life many years ago riding Hannibal's Fury. Ryder has now drawn Hannibal's Wrath, Fury's descendant. If Ryder stays on for eight seconds tonight, he will become our new champion. But remember, Hannibal's Wrath has thrown off every rider this week."
The moment Ryder saw the number, he understood which bull awaited him. He listened as the announcer spoke, staring at the dirt with a churning stomach and a heart pounding so fiercely it pained him. Swallowing hard against a stubborn lump in his throat, he fixed his gaze on the ground to avoid seeing Isobel’s face.
Celeste clutched Isobel’s hand tightly upon hearing Ryder’s draw, both watching him intently. Even from afar, they could read the anxiety etched on his face.
Luther draped his left arm over Celeste's shoulders in an attempt to comfort her in this tense moment. Celeste placed her free hand on Luther's leg as he covered hers with his own.
Thomas and Grace clasped each other's hands tightly, fervently praying for their son-in-law and Wren.
"This draw must be incredibly tough for Ryder and his family. To add to this pivotal moment, tonight marks Ryder Hayes' final ride alongside Wren Coulter as they both retire from bull riding. We are fortunate to witness their last performances."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the stadium as everyone watched Ryder and Wren raise their hands in farewell waves to their fans.
----------------------------------------
The riders launched their final bids to secure a spot in the top five of the championships. Starting from the lowest scorer to the highest, Wren was scheduled as the fifth rider, and Ryder would be the last one.
The first four riders each had their turns, but none managed to stay on for the crucial eight seconds. Wren prepared for his final ride with Ryder by his side.
"You've got this, Wren," Ryder encouraged, handing him the rope. "Go out there and show these youngsters how it's done."
Wren flashed his iconic smile that had made him famous in the rodeo circuit, finished wrapping the rope around his hand, and nodded.
The bull shot out of the chute, nearly dislodging Wren. However, a perfect turn brought Wren back into balance, allowing him to ride until the buzzer sounded. He let go and flew off the bull, landing on his feet and racing to the fence. Pulling off his helmet, he threw it in the air upon hearing his score of 87. With a wide grin, he waved to both the crowd and Rose.
Bella Rose joined everyone in celebration, clapping and cheering wildly for Wren, but inwardly she felt relieved it was over and thankful he emerged unscathed.
Behind the chutes, Ryder embraced him, giving him a hearty backslap as they always did. Several more friends joined in the jubilant celebration.
Ryder and Wren stood aside, watching each bull and rider try to outdo one another; more often than not, it was the bulls who emerged victorious. A few severe wrecks kept both bull fighters and medical teams on high alert.
Their close friend Dustin was up next. Ryder and Wren stayed by his side; Wren tightened Dustin’s rope while Ryder gripped Dustin’s vest, ready to pull him to safety if needed.
They watched anxiously as Dustin nodded his head. The gate swung open wide, and the bull erupted from its confines. Three powerful bucks later, Dustin lost his grip and was hurled forward into the dirt directly in front of the still-moving bull. The bull’s head came down aggressively as it continued to buck and spin, trampling Dustin repeatedly.
Bull fighters rushed in, smacking different parts of its body in a frantic bid to divert its attention. Eventually diverted by one fighter, the bull chased after him towards the gate until securing it outside of Dustin's reach.
Ryder and Wren, along with several other men, leapt into action and sprinted over to their fallen friend as medical staff swarmed around him. Ryder stood there anxiously with one hand holding his hat while running his other hand through his hair as he noticed blood trickling from Dustin’s mouth. The team carefully moved Dustin onto a board, strapping him down and securing his head in place while their director knelt at Dustin's head trying desperately to elicit any response from him at all.
The announcer's voice resonated through the arena, updating the crowd on the team's expertise and their readiness to provide Dustin with crucial medical attention. Isobel, Rose, and the family waited anxiously, breaths held tight, desperate for any sign of movement from the downed rider. Isobel's mind raced with haunting scenarios—imagining Ryder lying motionless in the dirt after just a few more rides.
As the team prepared to lift Dustin onto the stretcher, his eyes flickered open and he took deep, ragged breaths. Swiftly, they transported him out of the arena and to an awaiting ambulance.
Back in the staging area, Ryder paced nervously, clutching his hat in his left hand while his right fingers tangled in his hair. Wren watched quietly, giving Ryder space to process his emotions.
As Ryder's turn approached, Wren grabbed him by the vest, pulling him close until their faces were mere inches apart. "Ryder, forget about the bull’s name or background. He's just another bull. You came here to win and you will." He shook Ryder slightly, gripping the vest firmly. "This bull is nothing. It has no idea who it's up against—Ryder Hayes, son of Tyler Hayes. That’s who will conquer it." Wren punctuated his pep talk with a firm slap on Ryder's vest. Ryder nodded throughout Wren’s speech and continued even after he stopped.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
This ritual they had developed years ago always centered Ryder’s thoughts. Wren always knew exactly what to say to pull Ryder out of his head.
Sitting at the platform’s edge with his legs dangling, Ryder removed his cowboy hat and placed it beside him. He picked up his safety helmet and studied it intently. Turning it over repeatedly, memories of his father flooded in. Glancing at his black felt cowboy hat—the same style his father had worn—he picked it up again. Holding both items in each hand, he voiced a quiet prayer: "I trust You, Lord, to protect me. I put it all in Your hands."
Determined, Ryder walked towards the chute where Hannibal's Wrath awaited—a massive black and tan Brahma bull. He glanced back at the helmet lying on the platform before donning his cowboy hat and zipping up his vest over his black Wrangler shirt.
Wren joined him at the chute and looked at Ryder’s hat approvingly. "Going back to your roots?"
Ryder grinned, "Something like that."
They stood side by side as Guilherme prepared for his ride. When Apollo erupted from the chute with Guilherme balanced perfectly atop—showcasing extraordinary skill—their admiration was palpable. As the buzzer approached, it was clear Guilherme's score would be exceptional. If Ryder failed to stay on Hannibal's Wrath, Guilherme would retain his World Champion title for a second time.
With the championship almost within his grasp, Ryder heard the announcer announce Guilherme's impressive score of 90 to an electrified crowd. Ryder realized that failing to last the full eight seconds would mean losing the title yet again, probably forever. Focusing back on his bull, Ryder closed his eyes and brought his attention back to God.
Ryder calmly mounted the beast, feeling the volatile energy beneath him as if the bull might burst at any second. Shoving memories of his father's final ride aside, Ryder directed his focus solely on the bull's head, channeling all thoughts into this pivotal ride.
"It's all come down to this moment, folks. As Ryder Hayes readies himself for Hannibal's Wrath, let's show him some love!"
The arena exploded with cheers, clapping hands, and stomped feet as fans rallied behind one of their beloved cowboys.
With Wren's assistance, Ryder quickly secured the rigging and warmed the rosin on his rope. Sliding his leather-clad hand into the handle, he tightened it firmly. He felt Wren's reassuring grip on his shoulder and looked up to exchange a silent nod with his best friend.
Growing restless, Hannibal tilted his head to stare directly at Ryder. Seeing his own reflection in the bull's eye, Ryder steeled himself, refusing to let the powerful beast get into his head.
Wrapping the rope tightly around his hand, he smacked it with his other fist for added grip. Tossing the excess rope over the bull’s neck, Ryder firmly pressed down his hat and declared, "This ride's for you, Dad," before giving a final nod.
Hannibal's Wrath exploded from the chute with a violent twist to the right. But when he couldn't dislodge Ryder, he sharply switched direction left so fiercely that he almost toppled over. Aiming high like a star athlete leaping through the air, Hannibal did everything possible to unseat his resolute rider.
The stadium seemed to plunge into darkness; only a spotlight remained on Ryder and Hannibal's Wrath. In this intense moment, he heard nothing but the pounding hooves beneath him, each movement stretching into slow motion: spurs clanging, leather glove squeaking against the handle, beastly snorts clashing with fierce contact against the dirt—the beat of his heart resonating in his chest.
Celeste gripped Isobel's arm in alarm. "Where's his helmet?"
Isobel shook her head in confusion. "I don't know."
"Oh my gosh," exclaimed Celeste. "With that hat on out there—he looks just like his father."
Ryder watched intently, his eyes locked on the bull's head and shoulders, anticipating its next move. Hannibal's front hooves slammed into the dirt with such force that Ryder could feel the vibration in his teeth. Hannibal's Wrath leapt higher than any bull Ryder had ever ridden, coming back down on his front hooves with his back legs kicking straight out above him, his body completely vertical. Yet, Ryder leaned back and held on.
The crowd sensed they were witnessing something extraordinary as Ryder and the bull moved together like the intricate steps of a tango, the brush strokes of a Monet, or a flawless melody from Bach.
Isobel and her family stood up, hearts racing. Isobel watched her husband, hands covering her mouth as if trying to contain her pounding heartbeat, seeing him conquer a beast that had haunted their family for years. Grace and Thomas clung to each other, torn between awe and horror.
Gradually, one by one, the audience rose to their feet as the seconds ticked by. The announcer, typically ceaseless in his chatter to keep the crowd engaged, fell silent for a moment as history unfolded at the center of the Tyler & Mack Center.
Ryder had completely mastered Hannibal's Wrath even as the massive bull fought to throw him off. Just as the buzzer sounded, Ryder felt an overwhelming sense of his father's presence. Instead of freeing his hand and dismounting, Ryder kept riding, giving his father that final ride he never completed.
The entire stadium erupted in cheers and applause for this man riding with a greater purpose.
"Ladies and gentlemen, like Ruff Hedeman did for the late, great Lane Frost, Ryder Hayes seems to be riding for his father."
Wren and the other men lining the chutes shouted and hollered in support of a rider who had vanquished his demon.
The stadium already roaring with excitement grew louder, echoing with collective euphoria.
Isobel and her family, tears streaming down their faces now, cheered for Ryder as he rode another eight seconds for his dad. Terry embraced Sam tightly while they watched their brother channeling their father’s spirit.
A second buzzer rang out—the one their dad never got to hear—and Ryder released his hand and bailed off the bull, landing on his feet. He turned to watch Hannibal's Wrath buck its way out of the arena without turning back towards Ryder, acknowledging its defeat.
Falling to his knees, Ryder removed his hat and covered his face, tearfully praying with a heart full of gratitude to his Heavenly Father. Rising again to find Isobel's face among the crowd, another familiar visage unexpectedly drew his attention—one he thought he'd never see again.
A grin spread across Ryder's features as he locked eyes with his father, who stood at the arena's edge, beaming with pride. Ryder quickly glanced at Isobel, then back to where his father had been, but he had vanished.
Through vision blurred by tears, Ryder hurled his hat into the air and thrust his arms skyward. The arena floor filled with men who had been waiting behind the chutes. Led by Wren, they swarmed Ryder; Wren wrapped him in a hug and lifted him as others slapped his back in congratulations. Guilherme was among the throng, shaking Ryder's hand and praising it as the best ride he'd ever witnessed.
Celeste clung to Luther, overwhelmed with relief for her son's safety. Rose and Isobel held each other tightly, Isobel’s heart swelling with pride as she watched her husband being celebrated by nearly twenty thousand fans. Grace and Thomas eased into their chairs, hands intertwined, watching their daughter revel in admiration for her new son-in-law.
Beyond any moments spent with Isobel, Ryder hadn’t grinned this broadly since before losing his father. Wren grabbed him by the vest front and gave a slight shake.
"Brother, you are the new World Champion," Wren declared amidst the celebration of over thirty men in the arena's center.
Ryder’s smile widened as he gripped Wren’s shoulders. "I couldn’t have done it without you by my side, Brother."
They embraced once more as the cheering began to ebb and the dust settled. The announcer's voice boomed again. "Ladies and gentlemen, scoring 96 points on just his first eight seconds—but if you ask me, those next eight seconds should have scored 100."
The stadium erupted anew in agreement with the announcer’s sentiment.
As preparations for the closing ceremonies began and the arena cleared out, Isobel and Rose darted through the concession area toward the stairs that would lead them down to where their loved ones waited.
The moment Ryder saw Isobel dashing toward him, he promptly left the crowd he had been conversing with. He ran to her, lifted her off her feet, and embraced her tightly. After gently setting her down, Ryder cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. The salty tang of each other's tears lingered on their lips.
Ryder stepped back, gently swept his hands along the sides of her head, and tucked her hair behind her ears. Locking eyes with hers, he murmured in a raspy voice, "I did it." His smile widened more than she had ever seen before.
"You sure did. I'm so proud of you, Ryder."
A man holding a microphone approached Ryder and tapped him on the shoulder. "Do you have time for an interview, Ryder?"
"Absolutely, Andy." Ryder kissed Isobel again. "I'll be right back."
Isobel observed as the cameraman aimed his lens at Ryder and Andy. Ryder seemed as at ease in front of the camera as he was with his own family. She listened attentively as he answered question after question. When she heard her name mentioned, Isobel straightened up, seeing Ryder beckoning with an outstretched hand. She stepped up beside him as he wrapped his arm around her.
"This is my wife, Isobel."
"Very pleased to meet the woman who has finally captured this man's heart. Congratulations on your marriage."
"Thank you," Isobel responded graciously.
"So, what did you think about Ryder's performance tonight?"
Isobel looked up at Ryder with a proud smile before turning back to Andy. "I'm extremely proud of him. He rode not just for himself but also for his father. It was a very emotional experience for me and his family."
"I can only imagine. I think it was an emotional moment for everyone here tonight. So, Ryder, what's next? It’s been announced that tonight was your final ride; what are your plans moving forward?"
Ryder glanced down at Isobel with a smile. "First things first—we're going on our honeymoon."
"Oh really? And where might that be?"
Ryder turned back to Andy with a twinkle in his eye. "It's a surprise for Isobel, so I have to keep it under wraps."
"Wow, we're seeing a whole new side of Ryder Hayes," Andy laughed heartily. "What's ahead for you if you're done riding bulls?"
"Wren Coulter and I are venturing into team roping."
"Did someone call my name?" Wren hollered as he bounded over to Ryder and threw an arm around his shoulders, giving him a playful shake.
"And here we have the notorious Wren Coulter!"
Andy fired off a few more questions about their future in team roping before wrapping up the interview and moving on to Guilherme and other competitors.
"Ryder, you're a natural in front of the camera," Isobel said after Wren had sauntered away to find Bella Rose.
"I've been through countless interviews. I used to tag along with my dad during his interviews." Ryder swiftly grabbed Isobel's arms, turning her to face him, catching her off guard. "I need to share something incredible that happened," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a thunderous applause for our brave bullfighters who risk their lives nightly to ensure our cowboys' safety."
The stadium erupted in cheers once again as the closing ceremonies kicked off.
"Shoot, I’ll have to tell you later," Ryder said, taking Isobel’s hand and heading toward the entry gate where they joined Wren and Bella Rose.
"A big round of applause for our judges, gatemen, ringmen, handlers, and everyone else who contributed to this event!"
After a brief pause for the crowd’s appreciation, the announcer continued. "Now, let's get this party started!"
Pyrotechnics exploded with sparks and flames reaching the ceiling as "We Are The Champions" by Queen blared in the background.
"Now, for our top five performers of the week. These guys are all in the money!"
Ryder, Isobel, Wren, and Rose all stood just outside the gate, eagerly waiting for the results.
"Do you think you made it?" Rose asked Wren.
"I'm not sure. I know I’m close, but there were a few others who scored similarly."
"In fifth place, with a prize of $22,000—Wren Coulter!"
Bella Rose screamed with joy, jumping up and down as she hugged Wren tightly.
"Congratulations, Brother," Ryder said, giving Wren a hearty slap on the back.
Wren jogged into the arena to receive his oversized check and pose for photos. He then moved aside as fourth and third places were announced with larger checks each time.
When Guilherme was declared second place winner, he stepped into the center of the arena holding his $200,000 check high for photos before joining the other winners.
Ryder took Isobel's hand and started to walk into the arena through the gate.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Come with me," Ryder replied with a grin.
The couple strode out into the arena as a solitary spotlight illuminated them in the immense venue, sending the crowd into wild cheers.
"Our new Built Ford Tough PBR Wooorld Champion, Ryyyyddder Haayyyes!" The announcer's voice boomed, elongating each syllable of Ryder's name for effect.
Ryder lifted the check above his head, a massive grin plastered on his face. Isobel stood just a few feet away, matching his smile as she reveled in Ryder's exuberance. The oversized check, with "$1,000,000" boldly written across it, bore Ryder's name in large black letters at the top.
Clutching his Champion buckle in one hand, Ryder tucked the check under his arm and extended his other hand to Isobel. She eagerly slid into his embrace. Now holding the check for him, Isobel kissed Ryder as camera flashes erupted around them. Her face beamed with pride and happiness for her husband as photographers continued snapping away.
Isobel examined the buckle encased in a shadow box with wide eyes, “Holy cow, Ryder.”
Ryder looked over her shoulder and smiled, “I know. Incredible, isn't it?”
“This thing is encrusted with over thirty diamonds and rubies.”
“Yeah, it’s a $20,000 buckle.”