Page 56 of Christmas at the Ranch
Samantha tried to hide her grimace. She had researched mechanical bulls for the book where Sloane’s fellow agent, Ricardo, masquerades as a bullfighter in Barcelona. A mechanical bull was also called a bucking machine, and injuries included bruised buttocks and saddle trauma. Ten percent of falls from mechanical bulls resulted in concussion and women were more prone to slip off the bull than men. At first, Samantha hadn’t believe that statistic. But it was true. Women took their hands off the reins to fix their hair or adjust their top and were bucked off the saddle.
Samantha didn’t have a choice. Arthur expected everyone to participate. And she was wearing the arrowhead pendant. Nothing bad would happen.
The interior of the Mangy Moose resembled the 1940s western movies her parents watched when Samantha was a child. Her father always loved the scene where the bad guy in the black hat steps out of the saloon, flanked by his menacing companions. The town belle is beside him and he’s determined to marry her. Then the good guy rides up wearing a Stetson hat and shiny silver spurs. He orders the bad guy to get his hands off the girl, and threatens to run him and his evil buddies out of town. The bad guy slinks away on a black horse and the saloon owner buys a round of drinks for everyone in the bar.
Perhaps Samantha could write a western Sloane Parker book. Sloane, dressed in white pants and a white leather jacket, rides up on her trusty palomino. Clarissa Cooper is waiting for her. She’s wearing a skintight black jumpsuit and sitting on a black horse twice as tall as Sloane’s. Clarissa demands that Sloane leave town, but Sloane doesn’t move. Clarissa pulls out her pistol. In one swiftmove, Sloane lassos the pistol to the ground. Clarissa gallops off and the owner of the town’s bakery brings out a chocolate cake to celebrate.
Samantha would share the idea with Charlie when she returned to New York.
Now, she slipped into the Mangy Moose’s bathroom. Hopefully by the time she emerged, the tables in the front would be full. She’d sit in the back, and if she was lucky, the announcer wouldn’t call on her.
But when she reappeared, Drew was hovering nearby. He walked over to her.
“Beatrix sent me to find you,” Drew said. “She saved a table for us.”
Samantha glanced at the stage. The bull was painted an angry red, with sharp pink horns. The announcer was speaking loudly into a microphone, while a puffy-faced man heaved himself into the saddle.
Drew followed her gaze. His face broke into a smile.
“I rode a mechanical bull once during college. It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said helpfully. “The trick is to hold on with your knees, then you can’t fall off.”
Samantha relaxed in spite of herself. She had missed talking to Drew. He made everything better.
“To be honest, I’m terrified,” she admitted. “But your father expects everyone to participate.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” he assured her. “You stared down a live elk. That bull is only metal and plastic.”
Drew slipped his hands in his pockets. His expression changed.
“The thing I wanted to talk to you about earlier,” he began. “This might not be the best place to start, but—”
Suddenly there was a break in the crowd. Beatrix appeared beside them.
“There you are, I’ve been looking for both of you,” Beatrix cooed. “Apparently the bride is supposed to go next. I told Arthur I’m not riding that bull until you’re both there to cheer me on.”
Drew took his hands out of his pockets. He walked toward the bar.
“I was about to get us some drinks,” he offered.
Beatrix linked her arms between Drew’s and Samantha’s.
“You better make them doubles,” Beatrix said gaily. “The last rider lasted thirty seconds, I have to break his record.”
Five minutes later, Beatrix climbed on the bull and made a mock salute to the crowd. The announcer handed her a long white veil and Beatrix fastened it over her hair. The bull purred to life and Beatrix slipped to the side. Then she righted herself and clasped the reins firmly with one hand, keeping the other hand in the air to maintain her balance.
Someone started chanting, and everyone else joined in. The bull kept bucking and Beatrix almost lost her balance. She managed to hang on and a few men near the stage whistled encouragement.
Finally, the bull slowed to a stop. The crowd clapped and Beatrix raised her hands in the air.
“Our new record holder at thirty-two seconds,” the announcer proclaimed. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s going to try to beat the bride?”
Beatrix clambered off and joined their table.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Beatrix declared. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled. “Samantha, you go next.”
Samantha stood up and unwrapped her scarf. Their table was so close to the stage, she may as well get it over with. She touchedher neck and froze. The arrowhead pendant necklace was gone. Her heart pounded and her hands felt clammy. She peered under the table, but the pendant wasn’t there.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she said quickly. “I’ll be right back.”
