the old man didn’t worry enough.
“Whatever you decide about retirement, I hope you put it off another year.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m making a run at an NFR title next year. I’ll be on the road a lot.”
“You think you can win that many rodeos?”
“I don’t think—I know I can.”
A horn blast sent Beau to the back door. “It’s Colt.” His cousin’s truck and horse trailer barreled up the drive. “Aunt Sarah’s with him.” Beau snatched his jacket from the hook and his father followed him outside.
“It’s Midnight,” Colt said as he rounded the hood of his Dodge.
The newest addition to the bucking-stock operation, The Midnight Express, was wreaking havoc at Thunder Ranch.
“Something the matter with Midnight, Sarah?” Beau’s father asked.
“He’s run off again. Gracie thinks one of her boys accidently left the latch on the stall door unhooked when they were helping her in the barn this morning.” Gracie was Midnight’s primary caretaker and no doubt in a state of panic over the valuable horse.
This past summer, Midnight had suffered a flesh wound from a run-in with barbed wire after he’d escaped his stall and had gone missing for over a month. Although the horse was fully healed, Ace had kept Midnight’s physical activity to a minimum, which didn’t include a ten-mile sprint across the ranch.
Beau’s father put his arm around his sister’s shoulder. “Don’t get yourself worked up. The stress isn’t good for your heart.”
“What about the paddocks?” Beau asked. “Maybe Midnight jumped a fence to get to one of the mares.”
“We checked. He’s running free somewhere on the property,” Colt said.
Beau shielded his eyes against the bright sunlight and searched the horizon.
“Help Colt look for Midnight, Beau. He can’t have gone far.” Joshua motioned toward the house. “There’s hot coffee in the kitchen, Sarah. I’ll be in after I check on the bulls.”
Once his father was out of earshot, Beau asked, “Does Ace know Midnight’s on the run?”
“Not yet. I was hoping to put the horse back in his stall before my brother got wind of it,” Colt said.
“We’ll find him.”
“You head north on the four-wheeler and I’ll meet you there with the trailer.” Colt handed Beau a walkie-talkie then hopped into his truck and took off.
Before Beau forgot, he fished his wallet from his back pocket and removed the cashier’s check for three thousand dollars. “I won yesterday.” He held the draft out to his aunt.
She didn’t take the money. “Congratulations.”
“C’mon, Aunt Sarah.” He waved the check. “It’ll help pay for some of the expense that went into searching for Midnight over the summer.”
The Midnight Express had cost Thunder Ranch a hefty $38,000, and when the stallion had gone AWOL the family had shelled out big bucks—money they could ill afford in this bad economy—to locate the horse. In the end, the dang stallion had been right under their noses at Buddy Wright’s neighboring ranch.
Reluctantly his aunt accepted the check. “Thank you, Beau.” She sighed. “I’m worried I made a mistake in believing Midnight could bring Thunder Ranch back from the brink.”
“Midnight’s not just any horse, Aunt Sarah. He’ll come through for us.” Midnight’s pedigree had been traced back to the infamous bucking horse, Five Minutes to Midnight, who lay buried at the National Cowboy Hall of Fame. If given half a chance, Beau believed the stallion could win another NFR title.
Beau opened his mouth to tell his aunt he’d run into Tuf at the rodeo but changed his mind. She was already upset over Midnight; mentioning Tuf might cause her heart to act up. “Keep the coffee hot, Aunt Sarah.” Beau kissed her cheek then jogged to the equipment shed where the ATVs were stored.
A minute later, he took off, the cold wind whipping his face as he wove through two miles of pine trees. When he cleared the forest, he spotted Midnight drinking at the stock pond. Beau stopped the four-wheeler and pulled out the walkie-talkie. “Midnight’s at the pond.”
“Be right there.”
The ATV’s rumbling engine caught Midnight’s attention. The coal-black stallion pawed the ground. In that moment, Beau felt he and Midnight were kindred spirits—both needed to prove they were the best, yet neither had competed in enough rodeos this season to make it to Vegas and show the world they were number one.
Colt arrived, leaving the truck parked several yards away. He grabbed a rope and joined Beau. “Is he spooked?”
“Nope.” Midnight was the cockiest horse Beau had ever been around.
“Since he came back from Buddy’s he’s been more difficult to handle,” Colt said.
“I’ve got an opinion, if you care to hear it.”
“Speak your mind.”
“Midnight’s jaunt across the ranch is his way of letting us know he’s feeling penned in and he’s ready for a challenge.”
“By challenge, you mean rodeo.”
“Midnight’s a competitor. Bucking’s in his blood. He’s not happy unless he’s throwing cowboys off his back.”
“You might be right. He’s probably feeling restless now that Fancy Gal’s expecting and wants nothing to do with him.”
No wonder the stallion was acting out of sorts—his companion mare was snubbing her nose at him. “Enter Midnight in the Badlands Bull Bash.” The one-day event had a purse of fifty thousand dollars.
“Ace would have my head if I took that horse anywhere without telling him,” Colt said. “A win, though, will increase Midnight’s stud fees.”
“Sure would.”
“I’ll talk to Ace.” Colt pointed to the stallion. “You ready?”
“Nothing I like better than a good chase.”
“Keep him penned in until I get close enough to throw a rope over his head.”
Midnight allowed Colt to get within fifty feet of him, then when Colt raised his roping arm, the stallion took off. Beau followed on the ATV, cutting Midnight off at the pass. The horse spun, then galloped in the opposite direction. Beau turned Midnight back toward Colt. The game went on for several minutes. Finally, Midnight exhausted himself and Colt threw the rope over the horse’s head.
“Nice work,” Colt said after Beau shut off the four-wheeler.
“Midnight
