Free Tying You Down by Cheyenne McCray Page B

she got about doing things with Tate. It was crazy.
    “How much do you know about bull riding?” Tate asked.
    “Next to nothing.” Jo shifted in her seat. “Crazy cowboys get on the backs of crazy bulls trying to kill them. That’s about it.”
    Tate laughed. “That’s a start. I’ll give you Bull Riding 101 and you can let me know if you have any questions.”
    She stretched out her long legs. “I’m game.”
    “We’ll start with the bull rope,” he said. “It wraps around the heart girth of the bull and is what the rider holds onto. A bell hangs from the bottom of the rope to give it some weight so that it falls off once the rider falls off or dismounts.” He went on, “The flank strap goes around the bull’s flanks to make the bull want to buck and spin more. It comes off as soon as the bull leaves the arena.”
    He added, “The vests bull riders wear are made of Kevlar, the same material used to make bulletproof vests.” Jo nodded as he told her that the men who used to be called rodeo clowns were now referred to as bullfighters.
    “What about scoring?” She tilted her head to the side as she thought about the brief flashes of rides she’d seen on TV. “Crazy cowboy manages to stay on crazy bull for eight seconds? By the way, your brother is crazy.”
    Tate laughed. “The bull is scored, as well as the rider, and then their scores are combined,” he said. “The judges have up to twenty-five points to award the bull and twenty-five points for the rider.” He explained that the riders were judged not only on staying on the bull for the full eight seconds, but also for control and rhythm of the bull rider as he attempted to match his ride with the bull. If a rider was consistently off balance, points were usually deducted. “Style is important,” Tate added.
    “Can a rider be disqualified?” Jo asked.
    Tate nodded. “A rider is disqualified for touching the bull, the rope, or himself with his free arm, or if his hand comes free of the bull rope anytime during the ride.”
    Jo gave a wry smile. “I’d imagine if his hand came free during the ride he likely wouldn’t be riding much longer.”
    “Not likely,” Tate said in agreement. “What are your plans with your friend tomorrow?” he asked.
    “I’m going to church with Carrie in the morning and then we’re going to lunch,” Jo said. “She’s picked out a Thai place in downtown Scottsdale that she said she’s been dying to take me to.”
    The ride to Phoenix went by quickly and when they reached the coliseum, Jo saw that it was packed. Once Tate had found a parking space and they had climbed out, he locked the truck then took Jo’s hand as they walked toward the gates. She liked the feel of her hand in his, somehow comforting and exciting all at once.
    Creed had given the family VIP seating tickets, near the center. Loud, energetic music pumped up the crowd as everyone made it to their seats and prepared to watch the event. Mostly cowboys and cowgirls filled the stands, but there were plenty of people not in western clothing who were there to watch, too.
    All of the family members who’d been at Creed’s birthday get-together last week were grouped together in the stands.
    Even though Danica had been married to Creed for a couple of years, she still looked a little pale and concerned. Jo remembered what Danica had said about being nervous. It had to be hard to be married to a man who rode a nearly two-thousand pound animal that was determined to unseat and maybe even kill its rider.
    “Like I said, crazy,” Jo said to Tate over the noise. “I don’t blame Danica one bit for being concerned about Creed.”
    Tate gave her a smile. “Creed is good at what he does. Real good.”
    “He was almost killed at least once.” Jo let out her breath. “It’s a scary sport.”
    Tate squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. He’ll be all right.”
    Jo looked at him. “This is nuts, but thank you for bringing me. I think.”
    He laughed