Riding Star by Stacy Gregg Read Free Book Online

on to the back of the next bareback bronc that had been lined up ready in the chute – a solid chestnut stallion by the name of Widowmaker.
    Shep waited until Tyler gave him the nod and then the chute swung open with a loud bang. Widowmaker came barrelling out at top speed and flung his head down between his forelegs to start bucking. Tyler instinctively threw his torso so far back he was almost lying flat against the stallion’s rump to absorb the motion. Widowmaker lashed both hind legs out towards the sky. He was bucking as hard as he could and no sooner did his hooves touch the ground than he let rip again, spinning left and right as he did so, trying to dislodge the rider on his back. Tyler was rocking back and forth, one hand waving high over his head for balance, his backside glued to the saddle.
    The clock positioned above the chute was counting down the seconds. For a bareback bronc rider to win they had to last ten seconds on the bronc’s back. Tyler had already reached eight seconds. Georgie watched the clock as it reached nine seconds, then ten and the bell rang. Tyler had made it!
    At the far end of the arena the gates suddenly swung wide open and Tyler’s best friend, Jenner Philips, galloped in on a stocky grey Quarter Horse. In a few quick strides Jenner had lined his grey horse up alongside Tyler’s bronc. As Jenner pulled alongside him Tyler reached up his free arm and swung it round Jenner’s shoulders. Jenner suddenly slowed the grey horse up and as the chestnut bronc kept galloping forward the two horses parted company. Tyler was yanked free and clear off Widowmaker’s back so that he was dangling off the side of Jenner’s grey Quarter Horse. A few strides later, Jenner had lowered his friend to the ground and Tyler, nimble as a cat, landed on his feet in the middle of the arena.
    It was a faultless dismount. On the sidelines the rest of the Western class applauded and wolf-whistled to show their approval. “Way to go, Tyler!” Bunny Redpath hollered out as Tyler loped out of the arena.
    In the chute Blair Danner was preparing to ride. Georgie watched her wrap her hand tight in the rigging rope, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and a tense expression on her pretty face.
    â€œNow this oughta be good.”
    Georgie turned round. It was Tyler McGuane. He was leaning up on the railing right beside her.
    â€œThey don’t come much better than Blair,” Tyler said. “She’s ridden bareback and saddle bronc classes at Calgary.”
    â€œCalgary?” Georgie said. “What’s that?”
    â€œAre you kiddin’ me?” Tyler gave her a funny look. “The Calgary Stampede’s only the biggest rodeo in the world.”
    Georgie shook her head. “Sorry. I’m more into English riding.”
    â€œSo why have you taken up this class?” Tyler asked suspiciously. “Are you a buckle bunny or something?”
    â€œA what?”
    â€œ Buckle bunny ,” Tyler said. “That’s what cowboys call the girls who hang around the rodeo circuit.”
    Tyler lifted up his school shirt and at first Georgie thought he was just showing off the bull horn scars on his tanned, muscular torso, but then she realised she was meant to be looking at the buckle of his belt. It was made of bronze and imprinted with a steer head.
    â€œI won this buckle at Calgary,” Tyler lowered his shirt again.
    â€œThat’s pretty cool,” Georgie said.
    Tyler shrugged. “It’s a steer-roping buckle. The really good cowboys win their buckles for bareback or saddle bronc. The buckle bunnies all want to date a cowboy with a bronc buckle.”
    â€œYou’re kidding!” Georgie giggled. “You mean there are girls who honestly care about what sort of buckle you’ve got? Like rodeo groupies?”
    â€œTotally,” Tyler said.
    â€œWell, no,” Georgie said, more amused than insulted by the question,