Free Red Velvet Revenge by Jenn McKinlay

strong. As he tipped his head back, she saw that he had rugged features: a nose that appeared to have been broken, a square jaw, and eyebrows that rode low on his brow, making him look like a man who had something to prove.
    As the crowd began to chant his name, he lifted his black hat and waved it over his head. Mel caught a glimpse of neatly trimmed black hair and then he smiled. It was as if someone had ignited a sparkler. Ty Stokes’s face lit up when he smiled, and the crowd went crazy in response.
    “Oh, my,” Angie breathed from beside Mel.
    “Indeed,” Mel agreed.
    She glanced down the balcony, but the men didn’t seem as impressed with Ty. Not even Marty, who was the biggest rodeo fan—well, the only rodeo fan—amongst them.
    “Look at his clothes,” Marty said. “That boy is bought and paid for. There is not one stitch upon him without a label, and you can bet your fanny those labels paid dearly to be there.”
    “That’s good business,” Tate said, although he didn’t sound overly impressed.
    “Huh,” Marty scoffed. “Everyone’s a sellout.”
    “I imagine in this sport, you have to make as much money as you can while you can, because life in the saddle belongs to the young,” Tate said.
    They all watched as Ty’s car passed. He had an entourage of three men sitting with him, and, just as Marty had said, his car was draped with rodeo promoters’ logos.
    A high school marching band was next, and then the local veteran’s group came by, drawing huge cheers of appreciation from the crowd for their service to the country. Angie stood up to give her loudest two-fingered whistle, causing the soldiers to laugh and wave up at the balcony.
    The local 4-H club went by on their float, which was shaped like a giant cow, and then a few more marching bands passed.
    Lastly, a big powder blue Cadillac convertible brought up the rear. Sitting high on the back and waving to the crowd were Slim and Tammy Hazard. Slim wore a dove gray Stetson on his head with a white Western shirt embroidered with black roses on the yoke and the sleeves. Tammy wore a pretty ruffled sundress in matching gray and black.
    She was tossing candy out of the convertible, much like the bevy of beauties who had gone before her.
    “She must have been a rodeo queen at some point, don’t you think?” Angie asked. “Look at that wrist motion she’s got going. She can huck that candy fifty feet out, making it look effortless.”
    “And the wave,” Mel agreed. “She’s got the beauty-queen wave down, like Cinderella at Disneyland.”
    “Hey, Slim!” Marty hollered. “Up here! We’re up here!”
    Marty was hanging over the railing, trying to get his hero’s attention. Mel caught Tate’s eye, and he grinned. Although neither of them would ever say as much to him, it was cute to see Marty so enthusiastic.
    Slim was just passing below them when he happened to glance up. He had to lean back to see them, and as he did a horrific
bang
sounded. Slim fell sideways onto the back of the car, pulling Tammy with him.
    From her vantage point on the balcony, Mel could see a red stain mar the black roses on Slim’s shirt. He’d been shot! The crowd was silent for a beat, and then the screaming started. Panic ensued below as people snatched their kids and began to run.
    Slim’s driver was forced to stop or risk running over the fleeing mass of people. He climbed over the seat and manually lifted the convertible’s roof, hauling Slim and Tammy down into the seat while pulling the roof over them to block them from view. One of the women from the rodeo queen float was racing through the crowd, trying to get to the convertible.
    “Daddy!” she was screaming. “Daddy!”
    Mel realized she must be Slim’s daughter. The sheriffand several officers arrived and began to move the crowd to the side. The mass of people quickly thinned, and the convertible began to move. Honking incessantly, it cleared a path, then hopped the curb to go around a