Page 2 of Before You Can Blink (Rust Canyon #4)
The pain faded away, and in its place came a rush of exhilaration. In a split second, I went from being ready to give up to never wanting this ride to end.
Too bad for me, an arm wrapped around my waist, and I was yanked violently from the saddle.
Breathless, I panted as my vision swam. The adrenaline coursing through my veins had electricity buzzing beneath my skin. I felt invincible, and I knew right then and there I would be chasing this high for the rest of my life.
The excited energy building within me grew too much to contain, and I let out a loud whoop, throwing my arm in the air.
But the giant bubble of euphoria burst at the sound of my father’s booming voice.
“Jett Elias Sullivan! What on God’s green earth possessed you to get on the back of a wild horse like that? You could have snapped your damn neck!”
My head whipped around, and I swallowed involuntarily at the sight of Pop’s stormy face, his eyes blazing with anger.
Yep, I was fucked big time.
“Sorry, that’s on me.”
That’s when I realized Murphy was the one whose chest I was pressed up against; his arm locked around my waist from the opposite side of the fence.
“You good, kid?” He kept his voice low in my ear .
I gave a shaky nod, my feet scrambling for purchase on the closest wooden slat. Once he was sure I was steady on my own, Murphy released his hold, allowing me to climb out of the pen.
He tossed me a wink. “Keep your mouth shut and let me handle this.”
Not only had this man granted me the opportunity to experience the thrill of a lifetime, but now he was willing to throw himself in front of me and take on the brunt of Milton Sullivan’s fury? He all but cemented himself as my personal hero in the span of the last thirty minutes.
Stomping toward us so hard a cloud of dust kicked up in his wake, my father barked at Murphy, “You better have a damn good explanation as to why my fourteen-year-old son was on the back of an unbroken horse under your supervision.”
“Fourteen, you say?” Murphy pursed his lips, giving me a once-over.
“Fifteen in three weeks,” I corrected.
“What was that?”
Pop’s sharp tone had my eyes dropping to where my boots toed the ground. “Nothing.”
“I can understand why you might be upset,” Murphy began with a placating tone. “Tell you the truth, if he were my boy, I’d be pissed as hell.”
My father scoffed. “If that were true, he wouldn’t have been up there in the first place.”
Hate to say it, but he had a point.
Murphy hummed. “In hindsight, I can agree it wasn’t the best idea. But if I can say one thing?” Pop dipped his chin, allowing Murphy the chance to proceed. “I used to compete on the rodeo circuit, and I’ve never seen raw talent like I witnessed from your son today.”
My jaw dropped, and a rush of air escaped my parted lips.
Rodeo? Was this guy serious right now ?
Pop folded both arms over his barrel chest. “Used to compete. Mind if I ask why you gave it up?”
Tugging on the back of his neck, Murphy replied, “Didn’t bring home too many buckles. Had to man up and get a job that pays the bills.”
An unimpressed humph sounded from the back of Pop’s throat.
“But I wasn’t half the rider your son is.
” A hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Can’t compete on the broncs in the junior circuit until he’s sixteen, but if he’s this good now, I can only imagine what a year of training would do.
He’d be likely to blow the competition away and could snag some decent sponsors. ”
“And if he gets hurt?” My dad arched an eyebrow.
Murphy’s head tilted from side to side. “Minor injuries come with the territory.”
Pop’s chest rumbled. “It’s not the minor ones I’m worried about.”
“Your concern is certainly warranted,” Murphy agreed with a nod. “But the way I see it, life’s a risk anyway. Every day you wake up, you have no idea if it could be your last. Gotta make the most of what time you’re granted on this earth. Can’t do that living scared.”
“He was lucky enough to walk away the first time. I have no interest in tempting fate twice.”
My heart sank, and any hope of riding wild horses in front of a screaming crowd was dashed in an instant.
Pop was as stubborn as they come. Even if I begged and pleaded, he wouldn’t change his mind on this, so I knew better than to try.
With a jerk of his head, my father commanded, “Get in the car, son. We’re gonna head home after I have a few adult words with . . .” His words trailed off as he waited for the offer of a name.
“Murphy.” The man by my side extended his hand and shook with my pop. “Murphy Tripplett.” He shot me a sympathetic smile. “Better hustle up and do as your dad says. Wouldn’t want to get you in any more trouble today, kid.”
With my head hung, I shuffled to the pickup and climbed into the passenger seat. Through the windshield, I watched on as my father laid into Murphy, who simply nodded, allowing Pop to get it all off his chest.
But the whole time, I kept thinking that I would do just about anything to get on the back of another wild horse. Pop might have the power to keep me off them for now, but as soon as I turned eighteen and moved out, he wouldn’t be able to stop me.
A grin curved on my lips as the picture of my future became clear for the first time in my life.
I was going to be a rodeo champion.