just say it’s not acceptable.”
He went to Adele and took her hand in his. The calluses on her palm from years of roping were in stark contrast to the silky smooth skin on the back of her hand. Like her, he thought—tough on one side, soft on the other.
“This isn’t easy for me to ask, Adele. But I need your help.”
She gazed at their joined hands for several seconds, then lifted her eyes to his. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good. Because the Buffalo Bill Cody Stampede Rodeo is less than four weeks away, and I have to win.”
Chapter Two
Adele stood with Pop on the fence beside the chute and watched Ty position his horse in the roping box. People who weren’t involved in rodeoing had no idea how many hours were spent training for the sport by studying others from the sidelines.
“What do you think?” Pop asked.
“Good-looking horse.”
“Real nice looking.”
So was the rider, but Adele kept that opinion to herself. Ty sat tall in the saddle, his Stetson angled low over his eyes, his Western cut shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders. She wondered if he’d object to having his picture taken for their next website updates.
Almost immediately, she changed her mind. Ty had come to Cowboy College because of a problem, one he hoped to correct. It would be thoughtless and insensitive of her to take advantage of his misfortune in order to advance the ranch.
Ready at last, Ty signaled the wrangler, who pulled back the gate on the chute and released the calf. Ty’s run, over in the span of a few heartbeats, was a good one. Not, however, spectacular. And spectacular runs were needed to win World championships.
“What do you think his problem is?” Adele asked her grandfather as Ty exited the arena.
“Not saying yet.” Pop waved to Ty and pointed at the box, indicating for him to take another run.
Ty’s admiration of her grandfather yesterday afternoon wasn’t unfounded. Pop had been National tie-down roping champion for three years straight in the late 1950s, and again in 1963, before permanently retiring. Granted, things were done a little differently in those days, but the basic sport had remained the same.
One aspect not the same was the popularity of tie-down roping. That had grown tremendously in recent years, especially among amateurs. Not only did horse people with an interest in roping participate, so did thrill-seekers looking to try something new, urbanites wanting to experience the cowboy life, and even companies offering team-building retreats for their employees.
The increase in popularity was what had given Adele the idea to start Cowboy College. Her business savvy combined with her grandfather’s experience made a winning combination. Together they’d turned a run-down ranch into a thriving enterprise.
Seven Cedars hadn’t always been in trouble. For three decades after her grandparents bought the place, they’d run a modestly successful cattle business. Then, during Adele’s junior year at university, her grandmother had died unexpectedly from an aneurysm. Pop sank into grief, letting the ranch go. Adele’s father wasn’t able to leave his job and move his second family from Texas to tend the ranch. Until Adele arrived after graduation, no one realized how bad the situation at Seven Cedars, and Pop’s depression, had gotten.
Cowboy College not only breathed new life into the ranch, it gave her grandfather a purpose again. Within a year, they’d opened their doors, and had grown steadily in the six years since. Guests came from all over the country now, spending anywhere from a long weekend to weeks on end.
Ty Boudeau, however, was their first ever professional roper.
His horse, Hamm, lined up in the box with only the smallest amount of urging. “Go!” he shouted. As on the first run, the wrangler released the calf and Ty successfully roped it in a respectable time.
“He could do this all day and it wouldn’t be any different,” Adele commented.
“I’m afraid you’re right.” Pop rolled the toothpick stuck in his mouth from one side to the other. He was rarely without one since giving up chewing tobacco years earlier. Another of his doctor’s mandates.
“The horse isn’t taking one wrong step,” Adele commented, “and Ty’s doing exactly what he should be doing.”
“But the magic just isn’t happening.”
“Could his problem be lack of confidence?”
Pop shrugged. “Possibly. Losing a world championship when you’re as close as he was could set anyone back.”
“Except Ty doesn’t strike me as lacking confidence.” In or out of the arena, thought Adele.
But then, he’d lost much more than the championship. Sponsorship deals, good ones, didn’t grow on trees, and had launched more than one athlete on a successful post-competing career.
“You never know,” Pop mused out loud. “He could be putting on a good front. My guess is it’s the horse.”
Adele shot her grandfather a sideways look. “You just agreed Hamm’s a nice horse.”
“But he isn’t Ty’s other horse. Don’t get me wrong. The boy was always a good roper, one to watch since he began competing in junior rodeo. He didn’t come on strong until four years ago, when he got that horse. It was a perfect partnership. Now he’s lost that partner.”
“I think Hamm has the potential to be every bit as good as Ty’s other horse.”
“Maybe even better.”
Adele nodded in agreement. “He just has to realize that.”
“I’m thinking he already does.” Pop’s expression became pensive. “Recovering from a loss isn’t easy, be it someone you’ve loved or a dream you’ve held. Something inside dies. There’s no miracle cure and no set timetable for recovery. Ty will come back when he’s ready.” Pop turned a fond smile on Adele. “Or when someone shows him the way.”
She patted his hand in return, recalling their early days of Cowboy College. “You could be right.”
Stepping off the fence, she pushed a damp strand of hair off her face. The temperature might be only in the low seventies, but the bright morning sun beat down on them, warming her through and through. “If he were anyone else but Ty Boudeau, I’d recommend the beginners’ class. The best way to get to know your horse is by starting with the basics.”
Pop also stepped off the fence. “Why not Ty?”
“He’s…one of the best ropers out there. He doesn’t need a beginners’ class.”
“Are you sure? Could be just the ticket.”
“He’ll laugh in our faces, then pack his bags.”
“He won’t laugh if he’s committed.” Pop moved the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “And Ty strikes me
