Chapter NineRivals and Revelations
As I stand at the edge of the arena here in Weatherford, my gaze keeps returning to a certain barrel racer with mesmerizing green eyes who has become my fake fiancée.
How did that happen? I think Jo is a sexy witch drawing me into her magical web, convincing me to do whatever she wants.
But right now, she's about to take her turn at the barrels.
I'm waiting with bated breath to see her performance.
As usual, Buck is narrating the whole rodeo---starting with Jo and the other ladies.
I know from experience they're tough competitors.
A few days ago, Jo and I, as well as plenty of other folks, watched the Cattle Drive through town.
Afterward, the Frontier Days festivities kicked into high gear with a parade and a street dance.
We kicked our heels up for every line dance plus old traditional favorites.
That included the Tush Push, which had us both grinning like fools, remembering that night at the honky-tonk.
Somehow, being Jo's fake fiancé feels both terrifying and right.
The crowd thinks we're in love, and sometimes, when she looks at me a certain way, I almost believe it myself.
But tonight, the rodeo begins in earnest.
I also noticed Brock Sterling in the stands---with Maddie Vale, his occasional sidekick.
She and Jo have a bit of a rivalry going on.
My engagement to Jo, fake or not, deserves a real ring, so I bought her one yesterday.
It's a simple, modest stone set in white gold.
I don't think Jo was faking it when she declared it's the most beautiful ring ever.
Buck's voice booms through the speakers. "Next up, ladies and gentlemen, is our favorite barrel racer, the queen of the rodeo, Jolene Callahan!"
Jo bursts out of the gate, her body moving in perfect harmony with her horse, the determination on her face evident.
There's something mesmerizing about watching her ride---the way she leans into the turns, her hair flying out behind her as her expression reveals her fierce concentration.
Jolene Callahan is a vision of beauty, fluid grace, and raw power---a combination that makes me horny.
Damn, I need to kiss Jo. And do other things with her...
"Check out that form, folks!" Buck exclaims. "Callahan's on fire today!"
Jo rounds the first barrel, her body angled at just the perfect degree, the crowd roars its approval. I suddenly realize I'm gripping the railing hard enough that my knuckles turn white.
"Would you look at that time on the first turn!" Buck shouts. "Callahan's on pace to break her own record!"
I watch in rapt wonder as Jo thunders toward the second barrel. Her connection with that horse is incredible. They seem to share the same brain, the same heartbeat. The way she anticipates every movement, shifting her weight with subtle grace...You'd miss it if you weren't looking for it.
And I'm definitely looking.
Abruptly, some kind of noise echoes across the arena.
Maddie's horse---tied nearby---rears up unexpectedly, spooking several animals near the gate.
The commotion carries over to Jo's horse, who hesitates for a split second before rounding the final barrel.
Even from this distance, I can tell Jo has tensed up slightly as she fights to maintain control.
The crowd collectively holds its breath.
"Whoa there!" Buck calls out, his voice rife with confusion. But he recovers quickly. "Looks like we've got some unexpected excitement at the gate! "Callahan's fighting to keep her line!"
Jo leans over, petting her horse's neck, and whispers something to her mount that I can't hear.
Well, I am way over at the opposite end of the arena.
Whatever magic spell Jo whispered to her horse, it worked.
The mare steadies and makes the turn, but it's wider than it should, meaning Jo lost precious seconds.
"Callahan recovers," Buck hollers, "but that's gonna cost her on the clock, folks!"
Buck continues his commentary, following along as Jo races toward the finish line. My heart pounds, the crowd falls silent, and I stop breathing while Jo dashes past the line. Now we all wait to hear the judges' decision.
The numbers flash on the board: 16.7 seconds. Good, but not great. Jo's face tells the whole story as she exits the arena. Disappointment flickers in those green eyes, but only for a split second. Then she pats her horse's neck, murmuring praise despite the less-than-perfect run.
I start moving before I consciously decide to, pushing through the crowd of competitors and spectators until I reach Jo. Then I kiss her cheek. "Hell of a recovery out there, and that's not bullshit. You were fantastic."
Jo looks up at me, then sighs. Her posture wilts. "Should've been faster. That spook cost me the win."
"Was it Maddie's horse?" I glance toward where Sterling's occasional companion is tending to her mount, acting like nothing happened.
"Could've been an accident. Horses can get spooked." Jo's tone that tells me she doesn't believe that for a second.
"Accident my ass," I grumble. Maddie's smug expression as she brushes her horse's mane proves to me that she spooked Jo's mare. "That woman's about as accidental as a rattlesnake in your boot."
Jo follows my gaze, her jaw tightening. "Maybe, but I can't prove anything. And making accusations without evidence would only make me look like a sore loser."
She's right, but it doesn't stop the protective urge that rises inside me. I've seen enough dirty tricks in the rodeo world to recognize one when I see it. Maddie's timing was too perfect---right as Jo approached that final barrel.
I rest my hand on the small of Jo's back. "You are no loser, darlin'. That recovery was something else. Most riders would've blown the whole run."
A ghost of a smile touches her lips. "When did you become a sweet talker, Clay?"
"I have my moments." Rising onto my tiptoes to survey the arena, I search for some explanation for what happened, but I see nothing. "Wait here, Jo. I'll be back in a minute."
While I jog over to Brock and Maddie, I suddenly realize Jo is right behind me. I slip my fingers between hers, and we march over there hand in hand. I'm hoping to avoid a serious confrontation. "Hey, did you guys hear a crunching-crackling sound right before Maddie's horse spooked?"
Brock's eyebrows shoot up in the phoniest innocent act I've ever seen. "Crunching sound? Can't say I heard anything unusual. Did you, Maddie?"
His cohort's smile is as sweet as antifreeze while she strokes her horse's neck. "Just the normal arena sounds. Maybe your hearing isn't so good, McKendrick. Or you might just be looking for excuses for your fiancée's mediocre performance."
Jo's fingers tighten around mine, and I feel her body tense beside me. But her voice remains cool when she speaks. "Mediocre or not, it's strange how your horse only spooked when I was on my final barrel. Quite the coincidence, hey?"
"Some horses are sensitive," Maddie shrugs, her blonde ponytail swinging. "Not everyone can afford championship bloodlines like yours, Jo."
I stride forward, ready to rain hell down on Brock and Maddie. But Jo's grip on my hand tightens, and I realize she wants to deal with her nemesis.
"You're absolutely right, Maddie," Jo says, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Not everyone can afford quality breeding. Some people have to rely on cheap tricks instead of actual talent."
Maddie's sugary smile falters for a heartbeat, then she recovers. "I have no idea what you're implying, Callahan."
"Of course you don't." Jo puckers her lips, tilting her head, studying Maddie with the same intensity she brings to reading a horse's movements. "And you also had no idea your horse would spook at exactly the right moment to mess up my run."
I sling an arm around Jo's shoulders, urging her to turn around with me and walk away. She spears Maddie and Brock with a vicious scowl but keeps walking away. Whatever those two are up to, we don't have time to worry about it now.
The next competitor is already lining up at the gate. Jo and I retreat to the sidelines, both of us simmering with frustration.
"Those two are up to no good," I mutter, keeping my voice low as we find a spot along the fence.
"I know. But without proof, there's nothing we can do."
Across the arena, I spot Maddie and Brock huddling together. Maddie's hand slips into her jacket pocket, removing a small object that glints faintly in the arena lights before disappearing into Brock's waiting palm. The exchange is so quick I almost miss it.
"Did you see that?" I whisper, nudging Jo's shoulder.
"See what?"
"That hand-off. Maddie just passed something to Brock."
Jo veers her gaze straight toward Sterling as he makes his way toward the contestants' area where the bull riders are gathered.
She wriggles out of my embrace, and I trot along beside her.
We zigzag through the crowd as we try to keep Brock in sight without being obvious about it.
He halts near the chutes, casually leaning against a fence post while chatting with one of the stock contractors.
From our position behind an equipment trailer, we can just make out his profile.
"What do you think they're planning?" I ask, keeping my voice low.
Jo shakes her head. "Nothing good. They're passing something between them like they're in some spy movie."
"Maybe we should tell the officials."
"And say what? That we saw them hand off a suspicious package that we couldn't see clearly or identify? Without knowing what it was, we'd sound paranoid."
It's too late, anyway. Brock just retreated to the sidelines, and Maddie is about to take her turn.
Buck's voice drowns out all other sounds as Maddie prepares for her run. "Next up, we have Maddie Vale from Dallas, Texas!"
Jo's hand finds mine, her grip tight as we watch Maddie burst out of the gate. Her form is solid, I'll give her that. But sense calculation in the way she rides---like she's more focused on the clock than the connection with her horse.
"Sixteen-point-two seconds for Maddie Vale!" Buck announces as she crosses the finish line. "That puts her in second place behind Sarah Martinez!"
I feel Jo's shoulders relax a little. At least Maddie didn't win. But the smug expression on her face as she exits the arena tells me she's not disappointed. If anything, she seems satisfied, like everything is going according to plan.
"That's a decent time," Jo admits grudgingly. "Guess all I can do is shrug it off and move on."
But I will never forget what went down today. Never. Nobody messes with my girl.