Chapter 3

Scarlett POV:

The Annual Golden Thorn Rodeo was more than just a party; it was a display of power. Oil barons, investors, and politicians from all over the state gathered under the hot Texas sun to watch our prize-winning livestock and our even more prized cowboys. My father always had me open the main event, a demonstration of horsemanship that was meant to assure our partners that the O'Connell heiress was as tough and capable as her father.

This year, I was riding Midnight, our new champion stallion, a beast of black muscle and fire. I could feel hundreds of eyes on me as I guided him through a complex series of patterns, the crowd applauding our every move. This was my element, my birthright.

I was nearing the grand finale, a full-speed gallop toward a line of barrels, when a high-pitched, almost inaudible whistle cut through the air. Midnight's ears flattened. His eyes rolled, white with panic. He was a trained champion, but this sound was unnatural, agonizing.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the source of the chaos. A prize bull in a nearby enclosure, a two-thousand-pound monster named Ares, was going berserk. He slammed his massive body against the steel gate, again and again, until with a scream of tortured metal, the lock gave way.

Panic erupted. The bull charged into the arena, its horns lowered, its rage absolute. It triggered a chain reaction, and a section of the cattle pens burst open. A wave of terrified steers surged forth, a river of horns and hooves thundering directly toward the VIP viewing stands.

My blood ran cold. I saw Daisy-Mae, who had been standing near the pens, let out a piercing scream and theatrically stumble to the ground, directly in the path of the stampede.

Jax, my protector, my guardian, the man whose sole job in that moment was to be my outrider, was supposed to be watching my back. Instead, his eyes were locked on her. Without a second of hesitation, he spurred his horse, abandoning me mid-performance and charging toward Daisy-Mae. He scooped her from the ground into his saddle, a gallant hero saving the damsel in distress, and galloped her to safety behind the barriers.

He never even looked back at me.

I was alone, caught between a raging bull and a stampede, with a dozen terrified investors trapped in the stands behind me. Adrenaline surged through me, hot and sharp. There was no time for heartbreak. I wrenched Midnight's head around, my voice a commanding shout that cut through the screams. "Hiyah!"

I became the woman my father raised me to be. I rode into the chaos, my stallion and I moving as one, turning the herd, pushing them away from the stands, my skill and courage the only things between order and bloody disaster.

I managed to divert the bulk of the herd, but Ares, the bull, was still a rogue element. He slammed into a wooden fence near me, sending a rail of splintered wood flying. I felt a searing, white-hot pain as a large splinter, sharp as a spear, tore through my arm.

Through the haze of pain, I saw Jax, having deposited his precious cargo, finally re-enter the arena to help contain the last of the chaos. He was a hundred yards away, his attention now on the business of being a cowboy. He hadn't even noticed I was hurt.