Roping The Cowgirl's Heart

Chapter 5

Wyatt

I winced as I eased myself down onto the lumpy motel bed. The pain from my latest rodeo shooting through my shoulder like a hot poker. Damn bull, had thrown me hard, slamming me into the arena dirt like a sack of potatoes. I'd walked away, but my body was making me pay for it now.

I reached for the bottle of whiskey on the nightstand, taking a long pull. The burn of the alcohol dulled the ache. Nothing could ease the restlessness itching beneath my skin. More than ten years on the rodeo circuit, and what did I have to show for it? A few buckles, a bum shoulder, and a whole lot of regrets. And I still couldn't stay away from it. It was in my blood. This is who I was...

The thrill of the ride, the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I sat atop a massive, snorting beast. There was nothing like it in the world. From the moment I first climbed into the chute, I knew I'd found my calling. The raw power beneath me. The roar of the crowd. The split-second decisions that meant the difference between triumph and disaster. It was a high I couldn't resist.

I'd spent countless hours honing my skills. I studied the bulls, learning their quirks and tells. I'd pushed my body to its limits, enduring bruises, breaks, and concussions. I'd sacrificed relationships, missed birthdays and holidays. All in pursuit of that next big win. The rodeo was my mistress, my addiction, and my reason for being.

But lately, the shine had started to wear off. The injuries were piling up, the recovery times getting longer. The younger guys were coming up, hungry and fearless, and I was starting to feel like a relic. A has-been clinging to his glory days.

And then there were the ghosts—the ones I'd left behind in Silvercreek City. My family, my friends, and... Savannah. The girl I'd loved since I was old enough to know what love was. The one I'd left behind to chase my dreams, my freedom. I'd thought I was doing the right thing, giving her a chance at a better life. But now, with the miles and the years stretching between us, I couldn't help but wonder... what if?

I took another swig of whiskey, letting the warmth spread through my chest. I couldn't change the past, couldn't undo the choices I'd made. But, there was still a chance for a different future.

I took a look at the woman lying in bed beside me—I didn't even know her name.

The shrill ring of my cell phone jerked me out of my self-pity. I frowned at the number... Savannah? My thumb hovered over the answer button.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I hit the button to answer the call.

"Savannah?" My voice was rough, rasping from the whiskey and exhaustion. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Wyatt. It's me. I... I need your help." Her voice sent a jolt through me like an electric shock.

I sat up straighter, ignoring the protest of my battered body. "Savannah? What's wrong? Are you okay?" A thousand scenarios raced through my mind, each more dire than the last.

"I'm fine. I mean, I'm not hurt or anything. But the ranch..." She trailed off, and I heard her take a shaky breath. "My dad's will—he left the ranch to me but with conditions. And if I don't fulfill his wishes I will have to sell the ranch out."

My heart clenched. Jackson McKinley had been like a second father to me. He was a steady presence in a life lacking in stability. "I'm so sorry, Sav. I can't imagine how tough this must be for you. What are the conditions?"

"The conditions are a nightmare. But I have a plan. A crazy, stupid plan, but it's all I've got. I need to talk to you. I'm coming to see you."

"Okay... When are you coming?"