Red Velvet Revenge by Jenn McKinlay

arm was still in a sling, and he looked pale as he ran his free hand over his face.
    “Shelby, you know this is a bunch of malarkey. Why, Juniper Pass was the first rodeo in the country to stop steer roping, and we don’t allow the calves to be yanked backward during the calf roping. That was your own mother’s idea. We have never allowed the use of electric shock on any of our animals to get them to buck. You know your own grandfather beat the tar out of a rodeo competitor for doing just that.”
    Shelby sniffed and looked away, refusing to acknowledge his argument.
    “The Juniper Pass Rodeo is about more than a bunch of cowboys showcasing their ranching skills,” Slim said. “It’s what keeps this town alive every year. Without the rodeo, Juniper Pass would cease to exist.”
    “Who cares?” Shelby snapped. “I hate this dump full of rednecks and losers.”
    “Does that make us rednecks or losers?” Angie whispered to Mel, who shushed her.
    “Is that so?” Slim asked. “Well, it seems to me that you owe all these redneck losers a thank-you. Just where do you think we got the money to pay for that fancy college of yours, anyway?”
    “Blood money,” Shelby cried, sounding shrill.
    Slim gritted his teeth, and Mel could tell he was losing his patience.
    “And where do you think the money came from for your swank apartment in Los Angeles, your convertible, the head shots you needed for all of those auditions you’ve been going on, hmm?”
    The handful of protesters behind Shelby began to mutter amongst themselves. Mel noted that the two women looked remarkably like Shelby, with big hair and big boobs and vacuous expressions, while the man looked impeccably groomed but also thoughtful.
    “I didn’t know,” Shelby cried. She glanced at her fellow protesters with wide, innocent eyes. As if sensing she was losing them, Shelby went for the big drama.
    “I didn’t know. As God is my witness, I didn’t know,” she cried, and put the back of her wrist to her forehead.
    “Wow, her acting is so bad, it’s going to leave an odor,” Angie said.
    “Major stinko,” Mel agreed.
    “Shelby, stop it,” Slim said. His voice was weary. “You grew up on this ranch. You know how it works. You know that we make our living from cattle. Now, stop being such a brat. You’re not too big to turn over my knee, you know.”
    The hat vendor nearby let loose with a snicker of muffled laughter, and Shelby glowered at him.
    “You know something, Daddy,” she spat. “I’m only sorry that bullet didn’t hit you in the heart, but then, you’d have to have one, wouldn’t you?”
    She spun on her heel and stormed out of the tent with her entourage on her heels. The only one who looked reluctantto follow was the man. Mel met his gaze for just a moment, and he gave her a shrug as he turned to follow Shelby.
    “Dad!” a young woman cried as she raced across the room. “Are you all right?”
    She had the same lovely features as Shelby, but her hair was a deep, dark brown. Mel recognized her from the parade as the one who had thrown herself into Slim’s car. This had to be Lily. She glanced around, and sure enough Tate was following behind her with a lasso in his hands. Mel did a double take. A lasso?
    Not only that; he was outfitted as if he were the poster boy for Wrangler. He wore a Western shirt, jeans, and boots. Buttoned-down Armani Tate was gone, and in his place was a smoking-hot cowboy.
    Mel turned and saw that Angie had locked in on him as well. In fact, her mouth was hanging slightly open, and she looked stunned.
    “Let me go after her,” Lily said. “I’ll talk some sense into her, or better yet, I’ll kick some sense into her.”
    Mel turned back to Lily and Slim. Lily was holding her father’s good arm, and she looked worried.
    “No, there’s no point,” Slim said. “You know how Shelby gets when she’s mad. She says hurtful things, but she doesn’t mean it.”
    “She’s twenty-four years old,