Whirlwind (The Champions 1)

“I see it.” Tess ran a cautious finger along the edge of the break. The side of the tire had been cut almost through, with a razor blade or a very sharp knife, leaving a layer thin enough to burst under pressure.

The chill that crept over Tess was like a skeletal hand clutching at her heart. Somebody had done this—somebody with access to the truck and the ranch, somebody who could come and go without being seen or heard, even by the dogs. Questions flocked into her mind, like the black-winged vultures circling above the arroyo.

Who was behind this?

Where would they strike next?

How far would they go?

And what would it take to stop them?

CHAPTER FIVE

AT THE FAIRGROUNDS IN ALBUQUERQUE, LEXIE UNLOADED WHIRLWIND from the trailer, signed him in, and saw him settled, with water and food, in his space amid the complex of pens and chutes.

Before leaving him, she reached between the rails and scratched a special spot behind his ear. Whirlwind closed his eyes, soothed by her touch. Lexie had been there for his birth and watched him grow into a promising young bull. He’d always been her favorite; and now that he was moving into the big league of buckers, it seemed right that she should be here to cheer him on.

As Tess often reminded her, Whirlwind wasn’t a pet. He was a powerful brute, bred for a singular purpose—to buck in the arena and, if he proved good enough, to pass on his genes to his future sons and daughters. But for all that, he held a place in Lexie’s heart.

As she stepped back from the pen, he snorted and shook his blunted horns. “Don’t be nervous, big guy,” she murmured. “You’ll be safe here tonight. And tomorrow you’ll do us all proud.”

Walking back through the complex to move and park the rig, Lexie took in her surroundings. There were at least twenty bulls in the maze of pens and chutes, with more still coming in. Every effort had been made to keep them safe and comfortable. The floors were non-slip rubber, covered with clean sawdust. Bins held food and water. An overhead cover protected the bulls from the sun and weather. Security cameras monitored every inch of space.

And the bulls—they were majestic, all of them in prime condition. They paid Lexie scant attention as she walked past their pens—some dozing or eating, some blowing snot and passing noisy gas, or dropping piles of steaming manure.

Being here, surrounded and handled by people, was routine for these pampered giants. For the most part, they took it calmly, until their turn in the bucking chute, when the rider settled into place and the gate swung open. Then they became eight-second rock stars.

They were world-class, the best of the best, some worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. How would Whirlwind do against such competition? That remained to be seen.

The event would start tomorrow evening at seven o’clock, with the newer bulls and lower ranking riders. Whirlwind would be one of the starters, his rider to be determined by a draw. If he failed to perform well, he could be cut from PBR competition.

Later in the evening, around eight o’clock, the real stars would come out—some of the top riders and top bucking bulls in the country. Rankings, for both men and animals, were based on cumulative points scored in a season, the national champions to be crowned at the November finals in Las Vegas.

Would Whirlwind be among the elite bulls to compete in the final rounds? It was far too soon to hope. But it could happen. Lexie could only dream.

* * *

After parking the rig in the back lot and bidding Aaron a good night, Lexie perched on the hood of the truck to catch her breath before making the promised call to her sister. She’d reserved a couple of rooms in a cheap motel within walking distance of the fairgrounds, so there’d be no need to unhitch the truck. But even though she was tired, it was too early to check in and go to bed. Whirlwind wouldn’t be bucking until tomorrow evening. She had time to kill.

By now, the sun was going down. Fiery clouds spilled across the western sky, bathing the sagebrush flats and towering mesas in shades of rose and amber. Beyond the fairgrounds, the city lights were coming on, like fireflies awakening in the twilight.

The back lot was crowded with trucks, campers, and trailers, some small, others large and luxurious. Some even had living quarters in front with space for bulls in the rear. These were parked in the larger spaces with power and water hookups. Not far away, Lexie noticed one of these—a sleek rig with the TOLMAN RANCH banner emblazoned on the side. A light was on in front, where the living compartment would be. Another Tolman rig, the one that had been used to transport most of the bulls, was parked on the far side of the lot.

Of course, the Tolman bulls would be here. Had Brock Tolman come to the rodeo with them? Had Shane? If she were to run into them, would it be best to confront them, or just ignore them and walk away?

But never mind. The charming cowboy and his scheming boss could go hang for all she cared. She was here for just one reason, and that reason didn’t include a clash with the enemies of her family.

Remembering her promise to call, she found her cell phone in her purse, scrolled to Tess’s number. Cell service was spotty at the ranch, but maybe today she’d be lucky.

Her sister answered on the first ring. “Lexie? Is everything all right?” She sounded stressed, but with Tess, that was nothing new.

“Everything’s fine,” Lexie said. “We got here without a problem. Aaron’s done okay. Whirlwind is checked in and settled, and I’m just hanging out in the parking lot.”

“Any sign of Brock Tolman?”

“I’m looking at two of his trailers, so I know his bulls are here. But I haven’t been inside the arena or anyplace else where I might run into him.” She paused. “You sound worried, Tess. Is everything all right at the ranch?”

“Everything’s fine. I just heard from Ruben and Pedro. They made it to Flagstaff safely, so all’s well.”