Chapter Two

Eli pulled the truck into a roped-off parking lot a block away from the celebration. In the distance, teepees reached for the sky, a tribute to the Native Americans and mountain men who'd graced these same grounds every spring, for more than one hundred and fifty years, to trade furs, purchase supplies and swap tall tales.

Dressed in faded jeans and a black t-shirt emblazoned with Don't Mess With Bikers, They Look Crazy For A Reason, Stede pulled his baseball cap low over his brow. "Where to first?"

"I'm heading toward Vendor Square for burritos." Hollis looped her arms through Stede's on her right and Eli's on her left. "How about you two?"

The top buttons of his plaid shirt open, his Levi's riding low on his lean hips, Eli tipped his Stetson back and stuck his nose in the air. "Is that barbeque I smell?"

"Yeah, if I recall, the booth is across from the Mexican food vendor." Stede glanced toward an outside corral where junior contestants were warming up for the barrel races. "Let's order and then hit the rodeo."

Eli pulled a schedule from his back pocket and looked it over. "Barrel racing starts at seven, calf roping at eight, bronco bustin' at nine and Ring of Fire at ten."

"I'll never understand it, bulls sending bowlegged cowboys flying through the air for entertainment."

"It's the highlight of the rodeo, Stede. This crowd would be dayum right disappointed if they didn't end the evening with Ring of Fire."

"Or someone's death. I swear, people in these parts have shit for brains."

Hollis and Eli both came to an abrupt halt and pinned him with unforgiving glares.

"Except for you two, I mean."

With a nod, Hollis continued walking and Eli followed suit. They ordered their food at the booths—Hollis, two steak burritos smothered in cheese, Eli and Stede, barbeque beef sandwiches and two mounds of French fries. Inside the rodeo tent, they climbed the bleachers, settled into their seats, and chowed down while the names of riders and horses for the barrel races blared through the speakers. The familiar scents of fresh hay, horse manure and leather invaded Hollis' senses, sending a frisson of excitement coursing through her.

Another memory surfaced. Three years ago, before her mother had wasted away from the cancer that snuffed out her life, they had attended the same rodeo. Cynthia's favorite event was bronco busting, although Hollis thought she was more interested in the two-legged creatures riding the horses than the actual event. Perhaps she was looking for the man she'd lost her heart to sixteen years ago, a man Hollis had never laid eyes on. Cynthia Rowan died the following winter, leaving Hollis alone and heartbroken.

Erline took her under her wing, gave her a job, just as she'd given her mother a job. And she had Eli, the forever faithful, always-there-for-her, Eli.

Stede nudged her thigh. "You're quiet tonight. Everything all right?"

"Yeah, fine. Just waiting for my favorite event…bronc busting."

After the barrel races, they sat through calf roping, which was quite uneventful, and then cheered, hooted and whistled through the bronco busting.

When the announcement rang out that Ring of Fire would commence in ten minutes, Eli came to his feet. "Well, that's my cue."

Hollis arched her neck back and gave him a wide-eyed stare. "What do you mean?"

"I'm in this year."

Stede let out a snort, or was it a chuckle?

Hollis clambered to her feet and grabbed his shoulders. "No, just no. I don't want you to do this."

"Too late, beautiful girl. I already registered."

"So what?" She searched Eli's blue-green eyes. "You can change your mind."

"But I'm not going to. I want to give it a go."

"Don't, Eli, please. I got a bad feeling."

"About Ring of Fire?"

She shrugged. "I dunno; just a bad feeling about…about something."

"He's a big boy, Hollis." An edge of jealousy laced Stede's voice. "If he wants to get his ass kicked by a bull, let him."

Hands on hips, she pivoted toward him. "Thanks, Stede, you're a big help."

"Man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

With a shake of her head, she turned toward Eli again and brushed her fingers down his meticulously sculpted face. "Be careful, promise."

He planted a kiss on her cheek and turned from her, calling out over his shoulder as he strolled down the bleachers. "Promise."

A wave of tension rolled through the crowd as the participants staked out a circle in the dirt with the toes of their boots. Eli stood off to the right in the arena, close enough for Hollis to read number nineteen in big red letters around his neck.

Nausea rolled in her gut. "I don't like it, don't like it at all."

"Hell, Hollis, I'm starting to believe it's Eli you love."

"Shush up, Stede." She twisted her fingers. "You know I'm not in love with Eli. But he's not like you. He's—he's . . .."

Stede's eyes narrowed and rolled over her in slow motion. "He's what?"

"Softer. Oh, that's not the right word. He's not a hard-ass like you, okay? And the only reason he's doing this is to one-up you."

"So, this is my fault?"

The padlock door crashed open and a two-thousand-pound bull broke into the arena. The beast lowered his head, pawed at the ground and then charged a cluster of people to his left. Some scrambled from their circles; others twisted and dodged but remained within their imaginary cages.

"Three down," Stede said.

So focused on Eli, Hollis ignored him and continued to fidget.

The bull charged again, concentrating on a group at the other side of the ring. Eli's side. Steam poured from the animal's snout as he advanced. The beast clipped a man in the leg and bounded onward to head-butt several others.

Hollis peered through open fingers and punched Stede in the arm when he said, "Ten more out."

"How many are left?"

"Six, and lover-boy is still standing."

"Oh, if I had a gun right now, I'd shoot you!"

"God, you really are sweating bullets, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Looking through her fingers again, she turned back to the chaos. Bile rose in her throat when the bull set his sights on Eli and two others standing beside him. Run, Eli, run.

But Eli didn't run; he held his ground while the men beside him scattered toward a fence in the safe area.

The clowns sprinted into the arena, waving flags and cowboy hats, directing the beast toward an exit off to the side.

The crowd went wild when the announcer's voice echoed through the tent. "Ladies and gentlemen, this year's winner of Ring of Fire is Elias Trace representing Painted Moon Ranch."

Stede gained his feet, put his fingers into his mouth and let out a raucous whistle. Through tears, Hollis clapped and then flashed the best smile she owned when Eli turned to look at her.

Moments later, Eli joined them again with an oval-shaped trophy that said Winner, Ring of Fire, Roundup Days. Hollis embraced him before Stede pulled him into a bear hug and lifted him off his feet.

"You owe me a beer," Eli said with a smile.

"At least three. Just don't try to claim that as a point in our little—"

"Wait!" Hollis fixed Stede with a frown. "He said you owed him a beer. You mean you knew about this?"

"Guilty as charged, but in my defense, Eli made me swear I wouldn't tell you."

"Don't blame him, Hollis. It was my decision. I made him promise he wouldn't tell you because I knew you'd stew about it for days."

"Days…you mean you signed up a long time ago?"

With a guilty look, Eli nodded. "Forgive me?"

After a long pause, she released an exasperated sigh. "I suppose I have no choice, but don't leave me in the dark again, all right? You both know I hate that."

"Agreed," they said simultaneously.

"Now, how about those beers?"

Hollis descended the bleachers and walked toward the exit of the rodeo tent. Stede and Eli fell in beside her, arguing all the way about which one held the most points in the childish game Hollis called Two Imbeciles Keeping Score.