Extreme Bull

Extreme Bull | Catt Ford
    2

    AT the last possible moment, ever so casually, Jeff Stratton raised his arms over his head and leaned his chair back, making a big show of stretching while he stuck his foot out directly into Clay Harris’s path.
    Clay tripped over it and growled, “Grow up, you fucking asshole!”
    “Up yours, Harris,” Jeff said with an amiable grin.
    “Where’s your fucking reflexes?”
    “Stand up and make your argument if you want to try your luck so bad!”
    Another voice joined into the fray. “If you two are lookin’
    for trouble, save it for the ring,” Sam rebuked the two young riders. “Your bull’s up in two, Clay.”
    “Tell it to Stratton; I was on my way,” Clay muttered. He kicked at the other man’s boot, smirking at the muffled yelp when he clipped Jeff’s anklebone.
    “Hey, I didn’t try to kill you before your ride!” Jeff yelled.
    Clay gave him the finger over his shoulder without turning around as he walked away.

    Extreme Bull | Catt Ford
    3

    “Why do you always have to start?” Sam stood with his arms crossed looking down at Jeff rubbing his ankle.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jeff looked up, his face full of naïve incomprehension.
    “You don’t win extra points for injurin’ another rider behind the scenes,” Sam said dryly. “The only action that counts is in the ring.”
    “It’s a competition.” Jeff shrugged, dropping the innocent act. “All’s fair in love and war, and bull riding is total war, man. Anyway, he does his share.”
    “A real man doesn’t just want to win by any means.” Sam turned to leave but stopped when Jeff grabbed his arm.
    “Then tell me what a real man wants, if it’s not just about the win!”
    Sam stared pointedly at Jeff’s hand until the younger man let it fall. “What makes it worth the win is beatin’
    another man when he’s in top form. Not chippin’ away at him until he’s so distracted he’d fall off a tame little pony.”
    “Concentration’s all part of the game. If he can’t keep his mind on the ride….” Jeff shrugged.
    “You think Doug Morgan ever fucked around like you?”
    “He’s your friend; you’re not going to diss him,” Jeff complained in a low voice.

    Extreme Bull | Catt Ford
    4

    “He’s one of the greats. He didn’t need any penny-ante tricks to make his ride.” Sam watched the slow rush of color in Jeff’s face. “You could be too if you stopped this bullshit and just got on with the job.”
    “You really think….” Jeff bit his lip, embarrassed about asking for Sam’s reassurance, but the other man had been around rodeo all his life, and he knew good riding when he saw it.
    “It’s up to you. When you decide to put your money where your mouth is, I expect you may turn out to win a few buckles.” Sam chuckled as Jeff stuck his chest out without even knowing he was doing it. “You and Clay Harris. You’re both young, but if you don’t get hurt too bad, you got a career ahead of you.”
    “Clay Harris?” Jeff scoffed, as if the mere thought of Clay being on the same level as him was inconceivable even though he did secretly admire the other rider.
    Sam sighed. “Grow up, Jeff. And leave Clay alone, especially before he rides, or I’ll sanction you.” Jeff watched the older cowboy walk toward the ring, knowing he would do as he said. He couldn’t even hold a grudge; Sam was like the elder statesman of the bull-riding circuit, and no one in their right mind would challenge him.
    He followed Sam out to the ring and shouldered his way to the fence. Terrence was giving a poor showing in the ring, Extreme Bull | Catt Ford
    5

    flopping around on the back of a bull that didn’t seem much interested. “How long?”
    BJ answered without looking at Jeff. “He might make it to the horn, but he’s not making any points.” As Terrence slumped forward, the bull snapped its head back, and Terrence jerked his head back to avoid the horns, sliding into the well and pitching straight off the back end of the animal. He landed face down in a cloud of dust. Two of the bullfighters were immediately out in front of the bull, chivvying it toward the gate, while one of them grabbed the back of Terrence’s pants, hoisting him to his feet.
    Jeff laughed as Terrence got up with a grimy face.
    “Caleb better get clown combat pay for babysitting sequin-boy.”
    The audience hooted as the announcer said, “Not enough bull to get into the money. No score