Beauty and the Bull Rider (Hotel Rodeo #3)

“It’s gonna be under your ass if you don’t move it along,” Zac shot back. Ignoring the old-timer’s grumbling about whippersnappers, Zac slid the rifle into his saddle holster. “Can’t wait on you, old man. Catch up quick as you can, okay?” Bart grunted back something unintelligible as Zac threw a leg over his horse. Plying a spur to the bay, he rode out at a full gallop.

Twenty minutes of hard riding had Delaney’s ATV in sight. It was parked along the fence, but he didn’t see her. Where the hell was she? He prayed she’d heeded his warning. He exhaled in relief when he spotted her about ten yards south of the vehicle, standing maybe twenty feet from the tangled bull, wire cutters in hand. She turned her head slowly at his approach. He was glad to see she had sense to keep her body positioned toward the bull.

Although the animal was still standing, which he’d initially taken as a good sign, on closer inspection he found the bull wide-eyed and panting with blood dripping from his rear legs, where the wire was coiled tightly around its canon bones and pasterns.

“Zac! You’ve got to help him?” Delaney cried tearfully. “Caesar retreated with only a few scratches, but Romeo’s all tangled up. Thank God he hasn’t panicked yet.” She darted a worried look to the bull. “He’s bleeding pretty badly, Zac. What are we going to do?”

Rubbing his chin, Zac appraised the situation. The animal’s back legs were bound together with tangled wire, which hampered his mobility, but Zac knew not to underestimate his strength. If he had Bart, they could rope his head and front legs from horseback, and take him down that way, but he didn’t have Bart. He squinted at the horizon, looking in vain for a sign of an approaching rider. “That ol’ man better get the lead out of his ass. We need him now.”

“Bart?” she asked. “Where is he?”

“He was supposed to be right behind me.”

“What do you need him to do?” she asked.

“Rope the front legs. The way I see it, I’m gonna have to put the bull on the ground and hold him while Bart cuts the wire off.”

Delaney’s brows furrowed. “How the hell are you going to do that? Wrestle him down?”

Zac dismounted, lasso in hand. “Kinda looks that way. What’s he weigh? ’Bout eight hundred?”

“At least that much!” Delaney exclaimed.

“I was a decent bulldogger back in the day. Biggest steer I ever took down was probably six-fifty, but I was smaller then.” He gave the bull another assessing look. “I should be able to take this guy. Think you could manage the rope?”

“I don’t see why not,” she said. “I’ve handled one a few times. How are we going to do this?”

“I’m going to take him by the horns. If I can get him down, I need you to lasso his front legs and dally on the saddle horn.” He nodded to the gelding. “That horse’ll know what to do after that.”

“I think I can handle it.” Delaney accepted the rope with a nervous smile.

“What the hell happened to your hand?” he asked, noting her bloody glove.

“I stuck my thumb with some barbed wire. That’s how this all started,” she said.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s no big deal, but I’ll probably need a tetanus shot.”

“You sure you’re all right to do this?” he asked.

“It’s only a scratch, Zac. I can handle the rope. Just tell me what to do.”

“You need to stand back and give me plenty of room. He can’t do too much with the back legs, but he’s probably going to thrash pretty wild with the front ones. Try to get both if you can. If not”—he shrugged—“one’ll just haveta do.”

“Are you sure about this, Zac? What about the wire?” she asked with a worried frown. “What if you get tangled up in it too?”

Zac darted her a sidelong look. “I guess that would really suck, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s not funny, Zac.”

“I ain’t laughin’,” he replied. “I’ll be careful. You just watch yourself. I need you to stay clear until his head and shoulder hit the ground. Once that happens, we’ve gotta move real fast.”

As instructed, Delaney stayed well back as Zac moved slowly toward the wary bull.

Romeo snorted and pawed in warning as Zac approached his shoulder. “Easy there, ol’ son,” he said in a low, soothing voice. “We only wanna help.”

The bull was trembling and smelled of blood, sweat, and manure. Zac held his breath, praying the animal wouldn’t hook him before he could take hold of the horns. As long as he stayed behind the shoulder, he was in the safety zone, but once he got in front, anything could happen. He was doubly thankful the animal was only half grown.

“Get ready,” he spoke a quiet warning to Delaney.