“I’m not quitting.”
Lopez stared at him, his gaze so intense Cord couldn’t look away. He must’ve finally seen what he was looking for because his mouth twisted in a crooked smile. He put his hat back on, then slapped the side of Cord’s helmet, knocking it askew as he turned away. “Buckle your strap.”
With fumbling fingers, Cord fastened his helmet in place, while his teacher reached into his pocket.
Lopez waved a business card in front of his face. “You should take my fall class in Colorado.”
Cord’s already racing heart jumped up a notch. “You really think I can be a professional bull rider?”
“Not a chance!” Lopez’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Besides being a decade too late, I’m afraid you don’t have the natural talent.”
“Then why should I take your class?”
“Because you have what it takes…” Lopez paused and tapped the card in Cord’s frozen fingers. “You have the guts to be a bull fighter.”
Cord’s eye dropped to read the words, printed in bold letters, “Colorado Rodeo School: Professional Bullfighter Training.” The card burned his fingers like a hot coal.
“You’ve got me all wrong. I’m not even sure I can make myself get on a bull when he’s pinned in a chute.”
“You’re afraid, and you should be. But you’ll do it.”
“That’s because I’m depending on my speed to get away from him when he bucks me off.”
Cord had done his research before coming to the class. An internet article had explained how Lopez had retired from bull riding to become a bullfighter, supposedly inspired by another bullfighter who was critically injured saving Lopez from almost certain death. Cord had shuddered at the story, certain an experience like that would’ve convinced him never to step foot in an arena with a bull.
His father would’ve done it, though. He’d been fearless, even as a kid. Uncle Dave had told Cord at least fifty times how his dad had spotted a copperhead snake just before Dave stepped on him. As he’d yelled and pushed his younger brother out of the way, he’d been bitten by the venomous snake, leading to a two-week stay in the hospital.
But Cord was nothing like his heroic father. “There’s no way I could run toward an angry, bucking bull.” He tried to hand the business card back to Lopez.
“You could do it if you had to.” Lopez shrugged and pushed Cord’s hand back. “Keep it, in case you change your mind.”
Cord slid the card into his back pocket, determined to throw it away at his earliest opportunity.
6
“You’re really going through with this?”
Cord’s weekly conversation with Finn had centered more on the upcoming rodeo than his progress on the new software program. With his right arm in a sling, Cord could only use his left hand to steer as he made his daily commute to Sage Valley Ranch.
“I can’t back out.”
“You rode a bull. Haven’t you already proven yourself?”
“It’s something I have to do.” Cord’s chest was so tight, he could barely breathe. Could he really tell someone how he felt without breaking down? “Because of my dad.”
“Was he a rodeo bull rider?”
“No, but he was a real cowboy. Tough as nails. He never criticized, but I think he was disappointed when my best friend was in rodeo competitions and I wasn’t.”
“He had to be proud of you,” said Finn. “Look what you’ve accomplished.”
“He didn’t express his emotions a lot. I think he was proud, but kind of disappointed I didn’t want to be a rancher, like him.”
“You’re still grieving. You should be careful making lifechanging decisions.”
“I will.” Cord’s throat felt like someone had their hands around it, squeezing with all their might. With a force of will, he bundled his sudden emotions and pushed them back inside—the guilt, the grief, the self-reproach.
Every decision he’d ever made was suspect. The time he’d lost with his father while living in New York the last nine years filled him with regret. What choices would he have made if he’d known his dad was going to die so young? For the most part, he couldn’t go back and redo his life decisions… except for this rodeo.