Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Publication Date 7/30/2019
“Dell
takes you on a fun, wild ride!”—B.J. DANIELS, New York Times
Bestselling Author
He
came to Blackfeet Nation looking for his missing horse
And
found the heart he’d lost along the way.
One
thoughtless moment cost David Parsons everything—his irreplaceable horse, his
rodeo career, and his fiancée. After four long years he’s finally tracked his
horse to the Blackfeet Reservation and is ready to reclaim his pride.
It
should be the happiest day of his life. But the troubled young boy who’s riding
Muddy now has had more than his fair share of hard knocks, and
his fierce guardian, Mary Steele, will do whatever it takes to make sure losing
this horse isn’t the blow that levels him. David finds himself drawn to both
woman and child, and is faced with a soul-wrenching dilemma: take his lost shot
at rodeo glory…or claim what could be his last chance to make his shattered
heart whole?
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Enjoy thise excerpt:
When David
Parsons rode into the arena in Cody, Wyoming, he knew in his gut he’d ride out
a winner. He was on that kind of roll. He’d drawn the right calf and, Lord
knew, he was riding the right horse.
Muddy rooted his nose, pushing into the bit as David turned him
around in the roping box. When David tugged on the reins, Muddy kicked up his
hind feet, revving his engine like a drag racer burning his tires, a quirk he’d
developed as a colt and never outgrown. Then he jammed his butt into the corner
of the box, ears forward, every molecule of his body cocked and ready.
David kept a tight hold on the reins, his attention zeroing in on
the calf. Head’s turned. Wait. Wait. Make
sure he’s standing square. Let him take the first step.
The instant the calf looked forward, David nodded. The gate banged
open. David’s rein hand barely twitched and Muddy exploded from the box, the
start perfectly timed. The loop sliced through the night air. One, two, three swings, and throw. Zap!
Clean around the calf’s neck. David felt the sizzle of the rope dragging
through the hondo as he pulled his slack.
Muddy’s stop was like slamming into a brick wall on a motorcycle.
Wham! Sixty to zero in a single stride. David swung out in the right stirrup
and let the momentum launch him down the rope, so fast he was standing at the
calf’s head as it spun around, still on its feet.
Muddy scrambled backward, pulling the calf into David’s lap. He
flipped it onto its side, had the loop of his piggin’ string snugged tight
around the front leg before the calf hit the ground. He scooped up the back
legs, crossed them over the front, took one, two wraps and a half hitch, and
threw up his hands to signal for time.
David hustled back to his horse, vaulted into the saddle and rode
Muddy forward a few steps to put slack in the rope, adrenaline pounding through
his veins as applause washed over them. Muddy bobbed his head, acknowledging
the ovation.
“Seven point three seconds!” the rodeo announcer shouted. “Ladies
and gentlemen, there is your tie-down roping champion!”
A committee member caught David at the gate as he rode out. “We
need you behind the bucking chutes for the television interview.”
“Give me a minute to tie my horse up.” He swung off and wove
through a gauntlet of backslaps and congratulations to a spot along the fence
behind. Muddy flattened his ears at the next horse in line.
“You’re not big enough to win that fight,” David said. He reached
up to give Muddy a scratch for a job well done.
Muddy jerked his head away, pinning his ears again. David laughed.
“Cranky little bastard. Good thing we don’t get paid for your personality. Or
your looks.”
Muddy shot him a look that was the equine equivalent of a middle
finger. David laughed again, flipped the reins around the fence rail, and
patted Muddy on the butt as he left, just to annoy him.
When the interview was over, David made his escape into the
milling crowd.
“Hey, hotshot!” a voice called. “You too cool to hang with us
losers now?”
He looked over to see a trio of cowboys lounging against the fence
and sipping beers. Losers. Hah.
Between the three of them, they owned enough gold buckles to pave the road to
Oz.
One waved an empty cup. “You’ve been takin’ my money all year,
least you could do is buy an old man a brew.”
David hesitated, then angled over to join them. Muddy would be
okay for a few more minutes. He fetched four fresh beers and took a deep draw
off his while the others exchanged opinions and jibes, and David basked in the
knowledge that he’d been accepted by this most exclusive club as, if not their
equal, at least a worthy contender.
Then the arena lights went out and one of his companions drawled,
“Oh goody. Fireworks.”
Oh shit. David whipped
around. “I gotta go.”
He moved as fast as the dim lights allowed. Dammit. It was the Fourth
of July. How could he have forgotten the fireworks? Muddy went ballistic at the
first sign of the big overhead boomers.
The grandstand had started to clear, and people strolled toward
their cars, clogging David’s path. The first rocket burst overhead before he
fought his way clear. He rounded the last turn and swore. The spot where Muddy
had been tied was empty.
Eighteen hours later, David slumped onto the fender of his horse
trailer. Exhaustion crashed down on him as he faced the awful truth. Muddy was
gone, and he had no one to blame but himself.
***
Excerpted from Last Chance Rodeo by Kari
Lynn Dell. © 2017, 2019 by
Kari Lynn Dell. Used with
permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks
Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.
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About the author:
Author
Kari Lynn Dell is a Blackfeet descendant who lives with her family on
the reservation and brings a lifetime of rodeo experience to this touching
family drama.
KARI LYNN DELL brings a lifetime of personal
experience to writing western romance. She is a third generation rancher and
rodeo competitor existing in a perpetual state of horse-induced poverty on the
Blackfeet Nation of northern Montana, along with her husband, son and Max the
Cowdog. Visit her online at www.karilynndell.com.
Author
Website: www.karilynndell.com
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