shouting at the man not to take her son’s photo. The last thing she needed was for her and Kenny’s pictures to be plastered in the papers offering a road map for Rex to follow.
If she caused a scene, she would only draw suspicion to herself.
Maybe if she asked Johnny, he’d convince them to not print her son’s photo. But what reason could she give him?
She’d have to think of some kind of lie.
Anxiety needled her as Kenny finished his riding lesson, but she tried to hide it as Kenny jumped down. The horse lowered his head into Kenny’s palm and Kenny giggled, then looked up at her with such joy that a tingly warmth spread through her.
Johnny motioned to the boys. “Come on, guys, we’re going to meet Elvis.”
“Who’s Elvis?” Willie asked.
“Our prized bull.” Johnny led the boys from the riding pens toward a barn adjoining the rodeo arena, complete with holding chutes and smaller riding pens. The reporter and cameraman mingled with the boys, and Rachel followed at a distance, determined to avoid the media attention.
Kenny raced ahead and climbed through the fence.
“Wait,” Johnny called. “Let me check the bull’s pen.”
But before he could enter the barn, a bull charged out. Rachel’s heart raced with fear as the huge animal roared toward her son, dust flying from his hoofs, his tail sticking straight out.
Some of the boys shouted at Kenny. “Look out!”
“Elvis is in there!”
Kenny jerked his head up and froze, terror on his face as he spotted the bull. The animal’s head was lowered in attack mode.
“Kenny!” Rachel took off at a dead run.
The bull paused in the middle of the arena several feet from Kenny, bellowed, arched his back and shook his head from side to side, sizing him up as he would a threat.
“Run!” Willie yelled.
“Get out!” another boy cried.
“No, Kenny,” Johnny said in a calm voice. He threw his hand up and motioned for the boys to quiet. “Stay back, guys. And stand very still, Kenny. If you run or scream, he’ll think you’re playing and he’ll chase you.”
Rachel trembled, inching toward the fence, desperate to reach her son. But she didn’t want to make matters worse.
Moving slowly, Johnny climbed the fence, speaking in a low, soothing tone as he dropped to the ground. The bull dug his feet into the dirt, throwing it over his back as he lowered his head again, hunched his shoulders and angled his neck to the side toward Kenny.
Terror gripped Rachel. What if the bull attacked before Johnny could reach her son?
Chapter Ten
Johnny’s pulse ticked violently, but the only way to rescue Kenny was to remain calm. He’d been charged by a bull before and nearly lost his leg and his life. He couldn’t let the animal hurt Kenny.
“You’re doing great, Kenny,” Johnny murmured. “Remember what I told you about animals. They attack if they feel threatened, and we’re not going to let Elvis think we’re out to hurt him.”
“He looks mad,” Kenny whispered.
“It’s his nature. He hasn’t been broken like the horses we’ve been riding.” Johnny moved one foot forward slowly, then another, treading lightly, careful not to make any sudden noise. “In the rodeo, riders are timed to see how long they stay on him, so bucking is his job.”
Kenny trembled. “I’m scared.”
“I know, bud, but I’m not going to let him hurt you.” Johnny edged closer, holding up a calming hand toward Kenny. A couple more feet and he could touch the little boy.
The bull pawed at the ground, then bellowed in attack mode.
Johnny’s lungs tightened as he tried to control his own fear. Behind him, the tension was palpable as Rachel and the boys anxiously watched. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the cameraman recording every second.
Dammit. He couldn’t lose Kenny.
And if that bull hurt him, it would be plastered all over the news. Everyone would see him as a failure, and believe the ranch was too dangerous for their kids.
Then the BBL
If she caused a scene, she would only draw suspicion to herself.
Maybe if she asked Johnny, he’d convince them to not print her son’s photo. But what reason could she give him?
She’d have to think of some kind of lie.
Anxiety needled her as Kenny finished his riding lesson, but she tried to hide it as Kenny jumped down. The horse lowered his head into Kenny’s palm and Kenny giggled, then looked up at her with such joy that a tingly warmth spread through her.
Johnny motioned to the boys. “Come on, guys, we’re going to meet Elvis.”
“Who’s Elvis?” Willie asked.
“Our prized bull.” Johnny led the boys from the riding pens toward a barn adjoining the rodeo arena, complete with holding chutes and smaller riding pens. The reporter and cameraman mingled with the boys, and Rachel followed at a distance, determined to avoid the media attention.
Kenny raced ahead and climbed through the fence.
“Wait,” Johnny called. “Let me check the bull’s pen.”
But before he could enter the barn, a bull charged out. Rachel’s heart raced with fear as the huge animal roared toward her son, dust flying from his hoofs, his tail sticking straight out.
Some of the boys shouted at Kenny. “Look out!”
“Elvis is in there!”
Kenny jerked his head up and froze, terror on his face as he spotted the bull. The animal’s head was lowered in attack mode.
“Kenny!” Rachel took off at a dead run.
The bull paused in the middle of the arena several feet from Kenny, bellowed, arched his back and shook his head from side to side, sizing him up as he would a threat.
“Run!” Willie yelled.
“Get out!” another boy cried.
“No, Kenny,” Johnny said in a calm voice. He threw his hand up and motioned for the boys to quiet. “Stay back, guys. And stand very still, Kenny. If you run or scream, he’ll think you’re playing and he’ll chase you.”
Rachel trembled, inching toward the fence, desperate to reach her son. But she didn’t want to make matters worse.
Moving slowly, Johnny climbed the fence, speaking in a low, soothing tone as he dropped to the ground. The bull dug his feet into the dirt, throwing it over his back as he lowered his head again, hunched his shoulders and angled his neck to the side toward Kenny.
Terror gripped Rachel. What if the bull attacked before Johnny could reach her son?
Chapter Ten
Johnny’s pulse ticked violently, but the only way to rescue Kenny was to remain calm. He’d been charged by a bull before and nearly lost his leg and his life. He couldn’t let the animal hurt Kenny.
“You’re doing great, Kenny,” Johnny murmured. “Remember what I told you about animals. They attack if they feel threatened, and we’re not going to let Elvis think we’re out to hurt him.”
“He looks mad,” Kenny whispered.
“It’s his nature. He hasn’t been broken like the horses we’ve been riding.” Johnny moved one foot forward slowly, then another, treading lightly, careful not to make any sudden noise. “In the rodeo, riders are timed to see how long they stay on him, so bucking is his job.”
Kenny trembled. “I’m scared.”
“I know, bud, but I’m not going to let him hurt you.” Johnny edged closer, holding up a calming hand toward Kenny. A couple more feet and he could touch the little boy.
The bull pawed at the ground, then bellowed in attack mode.
Johnny’s lungs tightened as he tried to control his own fear. Behind him, the tension was palpable as Rachel and the boys anxiously watched. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the cameraman recording every second.
Dammit. He couldn’t lose Kenny.
And if that bull hurt him, it would be plastered all over the news. Everyone would see him as a failure, and believe the ranch was too dangerous for their kids.
Then the BBL
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