The late-summer air in the arena was thick with dust and adrenaline, the scent of sweat, manure, and leather clinging to the heat. Under the floodlights, Ryder stood by the rail, his pulse still galloping from his own ride, the crowd’s roar fading to a hum in his ears.
“That was a fine ride, son.” Tyler Hayes, broad-shouldered and sun-burnished, laid a hand heavy with pride on Ryder’s back. “You kept your hips steady, sat deep. Did you feel the difference?”
“Yeah,” Ryder answered, grinning. “Felt like I was moving with him instead of fightin’ him. How was my free arm?”
Tyler’s eyes narrowed in appraisal. “Close call once or twice—damn near brushed the bull’s neck. Watch that. But otherwise…” He pulled Ryder in for a rough embrace. “You looked like a man who knows what he’s doin’.” He tu
