Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders 11)

“And here I thought you’d be the daredevil type.”

“Ha. I’m more the Chicken Little type.”

“I disagree. It is daring to leave the comforts of your cushy lifestyle. Hit the road with a guy you barely knew. Immerse yourself in way of life you didn’t know existed. Few women would start this journey, let alone embrace it fully, let alone enjoy it without restriction. I find that amazing. I find you amazing.”

And for once, he’d stunned her into total silence.

Following slow-moving campers down the narrow, twisting road into the valley put them behind schedule, so Chase’s anxiety was high when they finally reached the Greybull rodeo grounds. “I called yesterday and made reservations at Sleepy Time cabins.” He pointed. “Right over there.”

Ava pecked him on the mouth. “Good luck.”

The contestant line wasn’t long. He paid his entry fee and headed to the designated area. At some smaller Wyoming rodeos, sponsors fed the competitors behind the chutes in the sponsor tents and Chase was starving. No sign of food.

He hadn’t seen Ryan or Taz yet. The thought of waiting around, striking up a conversation with someone he’d have to lie to about who he was didn’t sit well with him.

Maybe that’s a sign you should be done with this.

Chase had his phone out to text Ava, when he heard, “Chase?” He spun around and was face to face with his cousin Tell.

Fuck.

Tell wore the black-and-white-striped vest designating him a PRCA judge. His cousin tried to grab Chase in one of those awkward man hugs, but Chase didn’t want to draw more attention to them, so he smiled and thrust out his hand. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I could say the same. Thought my eyes were playin’ tricks on me. Man, you look different. Good, but…wow. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Chase gave Tell a once-over and whistled. “Lookit you. All official and judge-like. ’Bout damn time. Uncle Casper can’t throw a shit fit that you’re off to the rodeo, bein’s he ain’t in charge no more.”

Tell smirked. “And life is good because of it. Brandt is so over the moon happy these days, he don’t mind if I take off because he has Jessie has to help out.”

“So Brandt and Jessie are doin’ good?”

“Yep. Me’n Dalton tease them endlessly about acting all newlywed starry-eyed and shit, but after what they’ve been through, hell, after what we’ve all been through with Luke and now Mom and Dad, no one deserves happiness more than them.”

“I hear ya.”

Tell’s gaze landed on the piece of paper sticking out of Chase’s duffel bag that served as his contestant number. He frowned. “You’re competing in this rodeo? I didn’t see your name listed anywhere.”

As a supposed star of the PBR, the rodeo promoters would’ve made a huge deal out of Chase McKay’s appearance at the tiny rodeo, hoping to increase attendance.

“I thought the PBR discouraged their top fifty riders from competing in PRCA events,” Tell said.

“Management hasn’t ever come right out and said Don’t do it, but that don’t mean it ain’t heavily implied.”

“So you’re rebelling?” Tell shook his head. “Why am I not surprised? Good thing I’m not judging bull ridin’.”

Chase shuffled his feet. “About that. There’s something you oughta know. It’s kind of a funny story.” He relayed his double life as Bill Chase.

Laid-back Tell vanished. His eyes narrowed and he looked so much like his dead brother Luke that Chase had a serious case of déjà vu. “Lemme get this straight. You’ve been a fraudulent member of the PRCA…for twelve years?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Bullshit. You got a pro card under false pretenses. Competed under false pretenses. Took money under false pretenses. Is that about right?”

“Yeah.”

“How long you been double-dipping in PRCA events? All along?”

“No. Just the last few weeks after my suspension from the PBR tour. I didn’t see the harm. It’s not like I’m in it for the money. In fact, I haven’t spent a dime of the payouts I won.”

“That’s not the f**kin’ point,” Tell retorted hotly. “This is just another example of the almighty Chase McKay thinking he don’t have to play by the rules. How cheating is somehow all right if it benefits you in the end. Well, f**k that.”

He’d never seen Tell so mad. And what sucked is Chase didn’t blame him for his fury because Tell hadn’t said a thing that Chase hadn’t considered.

But you discarded the guilt and did what you wanted anyway, didn’t you?

“Look. I’m sorry.”

“Goddamn right you should be. Does your family know you’ve done this?”

He shook his head.

“And why is that?” Tell let the pause linger. “Because you know it’s wrong. They’d tell you it’s wrong, and they’d kick your ass until you made it right. I look at you and I feel like I don’t know you at all.” Tell stormed off, stopping when he reached the metal fence by the livestock gate. His fingers curled around the rail and he stared across the arena, his posture vibrated with anger.

Why hadn’t Chase considered he might run into his cousin while skipping from event to event in Tell’s jurisdiction?

Because once again you only thought about yourself.

Seemed to be a theme.

Chase slumped against the corral and waited for the impending ass-chewing from his upstanding, do-the-right-thing younger cousin. He glanced at the clock. The longest his diatribe could last would be forty-five minutes until the rodeo kicked off.

Tell walked back to him, a grim set to his mouth. “First off, I wish I wasn’t wearin’ this damn vest because I’d love nothin’ better than to knock your dumb ass right in the dirt.”

“I’d deserve it.”

“But since that ain’t the smartest option, we’ll go with the other one.” Tell paused. “Withdraw from the competition.”

His jaw dropped. “What? No. I drove a long damn way. I need to get on some bulls tonight.”

“Tough shit. This is how it’s gonna be. Either you voluntarily withdraw or I will report you to the head judge and you’ll be disqualified anyway.”

Without thinking, Chase snapped, “Jesus, Tell, judging power gone to your head or what? Why would you do that to me?”