?The Wildest Ride by Marcella Bell

?The Wildest Ride

Posted on August 16, 2021 by Nadene @ Totally Addicted to Reading in Reviews / 10 Comments

?The Wildest Ride by Marcella Bell is the first book in the Closed Circuit series. The world of rodeo fascinated me, so picking up this book was a no-brainer. Although not a fan of reality television series, the premise intrigued me and I slipped into the world and soon found myself on a wild ride.

?The Wildest Ride by Marcella BellTitle: The Wildest Ride
Author(s): Marcella Bell
Series: Closed Circuit #1
Published by Hqn on August 10, 2021
Pages: 400
Genre(s): Contemporary Romance
Source: Netgalley
Format: eArc
Goodreads
Purchase: Amazon|B&N|Audible|Audiobooks.com
Rating: One StarOne StarOne StarOne StarHalf a Star
Series Rating: One StarOne StarOne StarOne StarOne Star
Heat Level: One FlameOne FlameOne Flame

Prepare for the ride of your life this summer in Marcella Bell's bold, uplifting romantic debut.
At thirty-six, undefeated rodeo champion AJ Garza is supposed to be retiring, not chasing after an all-new closed-circuit rodeo tour with a million-dollar prize. But with the Houston rodeo program that saved him as a wayward teen on the brink of bankruptcy, heโ€™ll compete. And heโ€™ll win.
Enter Lilian Sorrow Island. Raised by her grandparents on the family ranch in Muskogee, Oklahoma, Lil is more a cowboy than city boy AJ will ever be. It shows. Sheโ€™s not about to let him steal the prize thatโ€™ll save her ranch, even if he is breathtakingly magnificent, in pretty much every way going.
The world watches on as reality TV meets rodeo in a competition like no other. In front of the cameras, Lil and AJ are each otherโ€™s biggest rivals. Off-screen, itโ€™s about to get a whole lot more complicatedโ€ฆ
A Closed Circuit Novel

I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.

This post contains affiliate links you can use to purchase the book. If you buy the book using that link, I will receive a small commission from the sale.

This installment introduces Lillian Sorrow Island aka Lil Sorrow, and A J Garza. Lil manages the family ranch. A job she takes seriously to the point of having no social life. So learning her grandfather had taken out a reverse mortgage before he died, placing the ranch in jeopardy devastated her. To save the ranch, she enters the new PBRA Close Circuit reality television rodeo. She is determined to win the $1million dollar cash prize and prove that women have can be professional bull riders. However, there is a tiny issue: she will compete with the PBRAโ€™s most decorated rodeo star, A J Garza.

A J retired from the rodeo scene and is looking for his next project. However, when he learns that the program that saved him as a teenager and fueled his passion for rodeo has lost its sponsor, the $1million dollar cash prize proved an attractive incentive to come out of retirement. Besides, with him being the best, this was a sure win, but he never counted on Lil Sorrow.

This was an entertaining read. The thing I enjoyed most about the story was the diversity of the characters. It was fun getting to know them. I also Like how the author highlighted the prejudices women faced on the circuit. Everyone automatically assumed Lil was a young man until the moment she got dolled up. Then out came the sexual innuendoes and many prejudices women faced being in a manโ€™s world. However, Lil didnโ€™t allow these incidences to distract her from her goal.

The interactions between AJ and Lil were entertaining. I enjoyed seeing their romance develop, sweet with a hint of passion. She may be his biggest competition, but he could not resist her magnetic pull. While reading, I wondered how it would all play out. Who would take home the prize and what impact this would have on their relationship?

With the story set in the world of rodeo, the reader got an intriguing view into the workings of the circuit and the potential danger contestants faced. The twist near the end took everyone by surprise, the reader included.

Conclusion/Recommendation

To conclude, The Wildest Ride was a delightful mix of diverse characters and the workings of the rodeo. For fans of cowboy romance, The Wildest Ride would make a great addition to summer reading list.

 

 

Story Evaluation
Plot
5
Characters
5
World Building
5
Writing Style
4.5
Pacing
4
Cover
4
Enjoyment
4.5
Ending
4
Overall: One StarOne StarOne StarOne StarHalf a Star

ย 

EXCERPT

One
On their own, the sheep werenโ€™t that bad. It was the goats that were the problem. They gave the sheep ideas.
And what the hell sheep needed with ideas, Lilian Island did not know.
The dogs, Oreo and Carrot, had gone in opposite directions, each pulling wide to flank the scattered sheep on the left and right while Lil and her horse harried them from behind. As they picked up speed, her heart caught the rhythm of her horseโ€™s hooves thundering against the ground as they chased the lead ewe together, two beings becoming one in motion.
The wind whipped across the shaved sides of her head, drowning out all other sounds beneath its gusty whoosh. It deposited traces of prairie dust in the loosely braided column of black hair that trailed back along the center of her head to hang down the midpoint of her spine.
Lil transferred the reins to her left hand in order to wrap them around the pommel of her saddle, steadying herself with her thighs as she did.
With her right hand, she reached for the rope coiled at her hip.
Her tornado-gray eyes, both narrowed beneath two thick black eyebrows, locked on the sheep like a missile on target.
Woman and horse flanked the sheep. Lil uncoiled the rope with a snap of her wrist while releasing the pommel with her other hand, letting her body tilt down the side of the horse until she was level with their quarry.
This close, she recognized the sheep as BB, or Bossy Betty, the herdโ€™s matriarch.
It just went to show: a fierce woman could be counted on to keep everybody in line, but watch out when they got wild.
Lil surprised herself by laughing out loud as she leaped from the side of her horse to tackle the sheep. Catching three of its legs in her left hand, she quickly roped them off with her right.
She might not be quite as fast as she once was, but there was no denying she still had it.
After a few half-hearted attempts at resistance, BB heaved a huge sigh and slumped against the ground. To the tune of the occasional disgruntled bleat, Lil freed the defeated but unharmed animal.
She made the rope into a makeshift lead and tied the wayward leader to her saddle, giving her a consolation pat along the way, making a mental note to tell Piper that the herd was coming due for shearing.
Still smiling, Lil said to the sheep, โ€œInconvenient, BB, but itโ€™s been a long time since I did any mutton bustinโ€™.โ€ With a final pat and chuckle, she added, โ€œA damn long time.โ€
The lingering rush of the chase was familiarโ€”once it got you, the thrill of the ride never really let goโ€”but the wish to do it again, that was unexpected. She was a grown woman, well past her rodeo days.
Sharp barking approaching from her right signaled that Carrot and Oreo were on their way back with the rest of the flock.
Soon they would have the whole herd of them back in the yard, and then Lil could start her actual workday.
Feeding the barn stock was supposed to be her meditative morning ritual.
One that might need reconsideration, she thought as she hooked a foot into her stirrup and swung onto her horse.
The horse was the same stormy gray color as Lilโ€™s eyes, with a black mane and tail matched to the inky midnight tone of Lilโ€™s hair. Fanciful, Lil had named her Aurora, the most beautiful thing she could think of at the time, but everybody called her Rory.
Rory had been Lilโ€™s twenty-fifth birthday present from her granddad. The last one he ever gave her.
Leaning forward, she pressed the side of her face against Roryโ€™s warm neck, breathing deep that unique-in-all-the-world scent that was horse.
Oreo and Carrot brought in the remaining six sheep, and Lil led the group back toward the yard.
The coyotes could have the goats for all she cared. They had been the ones to open the fence.
She turned to Oreo, on her left, โ€œWith my luck, they would just eat the coyotes, and then weโ€™d still have the stupid things, plus an enormous vet bill, to boot.โ€
Oreo gave a cheerful whuff, and Lil tried not to wonder what it meant that the response satisfied her.
Lil led the sheep and dogs back into the barnyard and tied the gate shut with the backup rope. The broken lock needed replacingโ€”another task she added to her mental list. Once a goat figured out the mechanism, you had to get a whole new style lock.
Shaking her head, she unsaddled Rory, brushed the horse down, gave her a pat of hay, and tossed her a handful of oats.
Wrapping up her morning routine, Lil spread feed out in the yard for the chickens. Theyโ€™d eat bugs and other bits around the farmhouse throughout the day, but it was always a good idea to start the day with a hearty breakfast. Besides, there was comfort in the action of spreading feed, especially after the chaotic morning.
The familiar action finally brought her heart some of the calm she typically found in doing the morning chores. She might spend her days chained to a desk running the business end of things, but she was still a hands-on rancher at heart.
The chickens settled into contented clucking and rooting just in time for Lil to hear her grandmother shriek from the kitchen.
Lil was across the yard in four seconds, up the stairs, and into the kitchen in another two.
Her eyes and muscles worked faster than her mind. Before she knew what she was doing, her rope was out, its tail end lashing out to snake around the delicate wrist of the arm raised against the woman who had raised her.
A flick of Lilโ€™s wrist and the strangerโ€”a woman, after a second more processingโ€”flipped into the air before landing hard on her back on the kitchen floor.
โ€œLil.โ€ Granโ€™s voice was cross.
Lil crossed the kitchen in three strides, crouched at the strangerโ€™s side, and rolled her over.
The womanโ€™s face had gone pale and sweaty, all the more unfortunate for being paired with a green three-piece skirt suit with a little too much square in the shoulders. She was probably in her midforties and had a tight perm shorn close to her head. Based on the faint traces of grow-out, the woman was a natural sensible brown that she had dyed an even more sensible brown.
Lil considered the woman for a second longer before saying, casually, โ€œI could shoot you, you know.โ€ Granddad had always said calm was scarier. โ€œYouโ€™re in my home, uninvited, and this is Oklahoma.โ€
โ€œLil.โ€ Granโ€™s voice turned up a notch, breaking through the cold rage in her mind. โ€œApologize.โ€
Lilโ€™s chin angled up, and her heels dug down, โ€œIโ€™m not saying sorry to this stranger. She was about to hit you.โ€
Granโ€™s face cracked with a smile that had a hint of bite in it. She patted the front pocket of her apron before pulling out her mace key chain. It was the color of a purple highlighter. โ€œI might have said a few provoking words about her motherโ€ฆ But thatโ€™s beside the point. I had the situation under control. Iโ€™ve got my mace. Carry it everywhere since Granddad passed.โ€
Lil groaned, her mind filled with images of Gran spraying innocent fools in the face, all of which were more comfortable than knowing that carrying mace around was just another sign that Gran felt a little less safe in the world without Granddad around.
โ€œGran. You know that doesnโ€™t make you any safer. And were you planning to wait until after she hit you to use it?โ€
The woman cleared her throat, the disapproving sound instantly transporting Lil back in time to her second grade teacherโ€™s class, Mrs. Donkin. Students in Mrs. Donkinโ€™s class were guests in her realm and were expected to act accordingly.
Lil hadnโ€™t liked the sound coming from her teacher, and she certainly didnโ€™t like it coming from a stranger in her own kitchen.
โ€œIโ€™m with the Bank ofโ€”โ€
Lil cut her off with a raised hand. โ€œWe all know youโ€™re from the bankโ€”โ€ There were certain professions a person couldnโ€™t hide, no matter how hard they triedโ€”cops, bankers, lawyers, teachers, pastors, and cowboysโ€”each one was obvious a mile away. โ€œAs modern bankers arenโ€™t known for door-to-door recruitment, it then seems pretty safe to assume youโ€™re from the bank we do business with, the Bank of Muskogee. Now, we donโ€™t have much in our accounts, so we wouldnโ€™t be the kind of clientele theyโ€™d send a representative out all this way to for a friendly check-in. That means youโ€™re here about our larger investment, this ranch. I run the books here, so I can think of a whole host of reasons you might be interested in paying us a visit regarding the ranch. What I canโ€™t think of, though, is a single damn reason you would be in my kitchen, in my home, lifting a hand to my grandmother. I find that so stupefying that it seems only natural to assume youโ€™re capable of anything, moving me toward my only recourseโ€”the use of force to protect myself from attempted injury.โ€
The woman huffed at Lilโ€™s words but refrained from commenting until sheโ€™d risen to her feet, straightened her skirt, dusted off her suit jacket, and patted her hair.
Then she said, โ€œI am with the Bank of Muskogee, and Miss Lilianโ€”I assume you are the Miss Lilian described in my fileโ€”I would be happy to explain myself to the authorities, including how you assaulted me, so go ahead and call them.โ€ She had patted her file when referencing it and now stood tapping her foot on the tile flooring. Lil and Granddad had spent weeks one achingly hot summer installing the incredible discontinued turquoise tile. Gran had gotten them for a steal, importing them direct from a Jamaica-based tile maker sheโ€™d met in an online forum about beading. The labor had been hard, the result worth it. No one else in Muscogee had a kitchen floor like Granโ€™s, which was just how she liked it.
The womanโ€™s tapping was becoming irritating, so Lil smiled her mean smile and said, โ€œNobody said anything about calling anybody. I rather think Iโ€™d drive leisurely down to the station to let everyone know what happened after-the-fact if you understand what Iโ€™m saying.โ€
The womanโ€™s mouth made a little O of outrage, and she clutched her file in front of her. โ€œI assure you, I will make a note of this hostility in my file.โ€
Lil rolled her eyes before crossing her arms in front of her chest. โ€œWhatโ€™re you here for?โ€
The woman lifted her nose in the air. โ€œAs I was getting to before your grandmother verbally attacked meโ€”โ€
Lil let out a low growling noise, and the woman stopped talking to take an audible gulp.
โ€œAs. I. Was. Saying. The Bank of Muscogee sent me to deliver the news that your bereavement grace period has ended. I am also to remind you that, as per the terms of the agreement, you, the heirs of Herman Island, may, without a down payment, begin making adjusted mortgage payments beginning November of this year. Alternatively, with a new down payment, an adjusted payment set at a rate equal to that of the average final six payments of the previous mortgage is available to you. If none of those options are feasible, you are free to leave the ranch and all of its associated troublesโ€”my file indicates difficulties securing improvement permit approvals and equipment rentals, as well as challenges with making timely mortgage paymentsโ€”to the bank.โ€
โ€œNow, what nonsense are you talking about?โ€ Lil asked, eyebrows and nose screwed up in genuine bewilderment. โ€œThat file of yours might paint a part of the picture true, but without a doubt, this ranch has one thing going for it, and thatโ€™s the fact that itโ€™s paid for.โ€
The woman shook her head, the movement mechanical like a clock, her expression a blend of smug and pleased that Lilโ€™s mind immediately coined smleased. โ€œNot for the last six and a half years since your grandfather walked through the doors of the central street branch and applied for a reverse mortgage.โ€
โ€œWhat?โ€ Lilโ€™s mouth dropped open this time. โ€œYou mean those things sleazy banks use to prey on lonely old folk without kin?โ€
The woman had the gall to look affronted. โ€œReverse mortgages are an important mode of financial freedom for seniors without traditional options!โ€
Lil shook her head, amazed. The woman moved like a clock and spoke with all the heart of a robot. โ€œYouโ€™re telling me that the Bank of Muscogee somehow fooled my granddad into signing his land away?โ€ Heat built in her chest, making its way upward toward her neck and face.
โ€œThe Bank of Muscogee was merely the facilitator. Your grandfather walked in, submitted the appropriate paperwork, and walked out with 1.2 million dollars.โ€
Lil laughed. โ€œ$1.2 million? Lady, you had me going. You truly did. But you lost me at 1.2 million dollars. I spent nearly every day of the last two years of his life with my granddad. If heโ€™d have had a million dollars, I would have known about it.โ€
Gran, having been quietly observing the exchange, chose the moment to reenter the conversation. โ€œSheโ€™s telling the truth, Lil.โ€
Lilโ€™s head whipped around to face her gran. โ€œThatโ€™s crazy, Gran. Whereโ€™d the money go if he did it?โ€
โ€œI found the money.โ€
All the heat building inside abandoned Lil as swiftly as itโ€™d arrived, leaving her shivering in the morning warmth of the kitchen.
โ€œHe set up a separate account. Most of itโ€™s gone. Spent on the ranch before you go worrying,โ€ Gran said, looking severe and firm. โ€œYour granddad was a good man. I havenโ€™t worked it all out yet, but the secret was his only sin.โ€
Some of the tightness left Lilโ€™s chest at her granโ€™s words, but she mumbled, โ€œItโ€™s a big enough sin.โ€
โ€œLilian Island, Iโ€™ll not have you speaking ill of the dead.โ€
โ€œHow could he have done this?โ€
For a moment, it was as if the bank representative had disappeared, and it was just the two of them, a bewildered granddaughter trying to understand the world from her weary widowed grandmother.
Gran shook her head, the motion small for all the volumes it spoke. โ€œHe must have had a good reason.โ€
The woman from the bank cleared her throat. โ€œYes. Well. Your grandfatherโ€™s motivations notwithstanding, it is my task to get your signature on this paper, which states Iโ€™ve informed you of the terms of the reverse mortgage.โ€ She held up a multipage form, the top few pages folded back to reveal a signature line at the base of a long page, which she jabbed with a finger Lil knew had done more than its fair share of pointing.
Granโ€™s eyebrow ticked up, and Lilโ€™s stomach tightened on reflexโ€”years spent under the womanโ€™s watchful eye had taught her to be wary of that look.
Gran was irritated and through with the womanโ€™s presence in her kitchen.
Without speaking a word, with barely even a glance in the womanโ€™s direction, Granโ€™s arm flashed out and signed the paper, the whole motion eerily like the one she had so often reached back and used to smack some sense into her old fool cowboy of a husband.
Lil wondered if the millions of tiny memories she stumbled into each day on the ranch would always hurt. This deep into them with no sign of abating, sheโ€™d nearly reconciled herself to the fact that chances were they would.
On a groan, Lil said, โ€œGran, you canโ€™t just sign like that. You didnโ€™t even look at the document.โ€
The bank woman virtually salivated. โ€œThank you, Mrs. Island. Iโ€™m sure the bank will be pleased with your response.โ€
Gran scoffed, still not looking at the woman. โ€œIโ€™m sure they will be SherriDawn Daniels, but, as I was saying before you so rudely lost your temper after I invited you into my home, it wonโ€™t get you any closer to knowing who your real daddy is.โ€
Lil grimaced, and SherriDawnโ€”old enough to be Lilโ€™s mother and, who had, according to Gran, been one of the wild girls Lilโ€™s mother had palled around with as a teenโ€”actually growled.
Lilโ€™s hand tensed at her side, ready to repeat the scene from earlier if need be.
But this time SherriDawn held her temper, instead, plastering a broad smile on her face, saying through clenched teeth, โ€œIโ€™ll just be on my way, now, Mrs. Island. It was nice seeing you again.โ€
Gran cackled. โ€œDonโ€™t you lie to me, SherriDawn. Iโ€™ve seen right through you since you were fifteen years old, and donโ€™t pretend like it isnโ€™t true.โ€
The growling sound moved lower down into her throat, but this time SherriDawn took the wise course: she shut her mouth, clasped her briefcase, and swiveled narrowly to the door.
Watching her walk away, so prim and proper that it seemed anally uncomfortable, it was hard to imagine SherriDawn might have been wild enough to ride with her mother. In Lilโ€™s mind, her mother represented all that was wild and dangerous, as well as what happened when you chased after it. Sheโ€™d been wild enough to run around and have herself a baby by a mystery man she refused to name at sixteen. Wild enough to run off and never come back, leaving that baby to be raised by her grandparents.
SherriDawn didnโ€™t seem like she had the balls for all of that.
After the door slammed shut, the old screen let to fall without care by SherriDawn on her way out, Gran gathered herself with a shuddering breath, which she then let out on a long theatrical sigh.
Lilโ€™s Spidey senses tingled.
Given what Gran already seemed to know about things, the whole scene with SherriDawn now seemed put on. And Granโ€™s long sigh was telling. That meant that all of itโ€”goading the bank woman, the dramatic reveal, perhaps even the sheep and the goats, now that Lil was thinking about itโ€”was part of one of Granโ€™s plots then.
If she knew her gran, and she did like the back of her hand, this one would be related to the reverse mortgage but would be no less outrageous for being grounded in their real problems.
Gran put on a sober look before sighing. โ€œEveryone ought to be hereโ€”I only want to say this once.โ€ Then she opened her mouth and hollered at the top of her considerable lungs, โ€œPIPER! TOMMY!โ€
Piper, their petite red-haired farmhand, came running in first, clearly having grabbed the closest thing at hand to use as a weapon if neededโ€”a horseshoe.
Tommy, Lilโ€™s live-in cousin from Granddadโ€™s side, had a rifle.
Steady, dependable, Tommy.
โ€œWhatโ€™s going on?โ€ they asked in unison.
โ€œYouโ€™re all going to want to sit down for this,โ€ Gran said with an arm toward the kitchen table and more weariness in her voice than the unveiling of a scheme usually allowed.
Following her grandmotherโ€™s gesture, Lil noticed for the first time the plaid thermos of coffee that sat in the center of the round table.
It wasnโ€™t the new stainless steel one.
Gran had taken out the plaid one. She reserved the plaid thermos for tough conversations.
Four chairs sat around the table, each with an empty coffee mug in front of it.
Lilโ€™s seat, where she sat now that she knew what was going on, was the east point of the compass of their table.
Gran sat in the north, Tommy the south, and Piper the west.
Granddad had always been in the northeast, a steady anchor between Gran and Lil.
Without him, they held each other as best they could, but both had become more prone to drifting.
Gran waited for everyone to pour a cup before she spoke. โ€œIโ€™ll start with the good news. We have each other. We have our stock, and, for the moment, we have the land.โ€
โ€œNot a promising start, Gran,โ€ Lil observed.
โ€œIt is when it might be all weโ€™ve got,โ€ Gran said simply. โ€œUnbeknownst to me, Granddad took a reverse mortgage on the ranch in the years before he died. I received a letter informing me of this in the mail last week.โ€
Lil frowned. That Gran had sat on information this critical for a week settled about as well as lemon juice in cream.
Gran continued, โ€œAfter some digging, what I can piece together is this: about five years ago, Granddad lost the Wilson drive contract.โ€
Lil shook her head. โ€œThatโ€™s impossible. He went right up until he died. Thatโ€™s half the reason he got sick in the first place.โ€
Gran placed a hand on Lilโ€™s wrist, just below where the hand attached to it had clenched into a fist.
Gran, never one to pull her punches, said: โ€œHe didnโ€™t go. He kept a separate bank account for the money, and he tracked his expenses. He spent the time in Tulsa at a hotel renting movies and ordering room service.โ€ A half smile broke through the frustration. โ€œGreedy old cuss.โ€
But it wasnโ€™t an endearing foible to Lilโ€™s frame of mind. He had lied to them, and, in his own words, like all lies, it had spiraled into an avalanche of deceit.
โ€œIn the agreement, he included a provision to give us extra time before we had to make a decision, but that time is up. We have sixty days to come up with a down payment for the ranch, following which the bank will establish monthly mortgage payments. Every way Iโ€™ve looked at it, itโ€™s our only option. We would never be able to afford the payment the bank offered without the down payment. But nobody is going to evict us from land my husbandโ€™s family has held on to, hardscrabble as itโ€™s been, through hell on earth.โ€ The last she directed specifically to Lil and Tommy. Through their granddadโ€™s line, Tommy and Lil were Muscogee Creek Freedmen, the descendants of enslaved people under the double burden of being property during the relocation and later forced removal of the Muscogee from their homelands in the southeast. And after the tribe disenrolled the freedmen in the seventies, their citizenship revoked in a blow her granddad had never quite recovered from, this land, this dry patch of Oklahoma allotted to their family after the Civil Warโ€”insignificant dust mote of a ranch that it wasโ€”was the only proof they had left, the only hint as to how their family had ended up in Oklahoma in the first place. Tearing folks from their history was one of the ways to break them, so Lilโ€™s family had held on to theirs through their landโ€”through cultural hostility, the dust bowl, outright deception, attempts to steal, and everything else that time and life had thrown their way.
They had refused to sell even when their neighbors, cousins, and relatives packed up and left, seeking the green of other pastures and the heat of other suns. The Islands had stuck it out, and the reward was being able to say theyโ€™d held on to the first and only thing theyโ€™d ever been given.
Until now.
Lil was glad she had taken Granโ€™s advice to sit down. The floor had become somewhat less substantial beneath her boots.
It occurred to her that they were nice boots. She could probably sell them for some quick cash. It wouldnโ€™t be anywhere near enough if what she thought might be true was true.
Sixty days wasnโ€™t enough time at all. Lil frowned. They had a cash reserve of five thousand to keep them and the stock fed through a pinch, and they had the value of their stock itself, which could bring in another eighty thousand in a quick sale at auction, but as far as she knew, they didnโ€™t have any other assets.
Her 1980s Toyota was too beat up to be worth anything, and she didnโ€™t own any personal items of value.
Finally, she found her voice. โ€œBut why would Granddad do something like that?โ€
Gran sighed. โ€œI donโ€™t think that he could admit he was too old to do it all himself anymore. Looking at his paperwork, in addition to withdrawing the amounts it took to look like heโ€™d still been going on the drives, it looks like heโ€™d been dipping in those funds rather liberally.โ€
โ€œRoryโ€ฆโ€ Lil grimaced. She had wondered where heโ€™d scrounged up the money for a papered Arabian filly.
Now she knew.
Gran nodded. โ€œAnd Gorgeous,โ€ she said, referring to the brand new Subaru station wagon that sat in her driveway, souped-up with every safety and luxury feature available.
Lil brought her fingers to her temples and rubbed. โ€œSo how much is left in his secret pot then?โ€ she asked.
Gran shook her head. โ€œJust ten thousand.โ€
โ€œWhat?โ€ Lil gasped.
Whining wasnโ€™t her usual way, but, as the woman from the bank had gone, and there was no one left to throttle, it was the only option available.
โ€œDonโ€™t be theatrical.โ€ Granโ€™s comment was automatic, so much so that Lil wasnโ€™t even sure the woman noticed sheโ€™d made it, nor that, as far as statements went, it was the pot calling the kettle. โ€œThey want twenty percent for the down payment. We donโ€™t have that.โ€
Lil groaned. โ€œNor enough for the mortgage payments after that. Weโ€™re barely making it by as is.โ€ Lil couldnโ€™t tell the truth: they werenโ€™t making it. She had been contemplating selling equipment to stretch the final distance to make ends meet. Every month it was a struggle, but Lil had been somehow managing, just eking it out of the red. A mortgage payment, any mortgage payment, would break them.
Gran waited a beat after Lilโ€™s interruption, punctuating the unspoken admonishment with a lifted eyebrow and communicating clearly without words: Are you done yet?
Lil blushed.
โ€œButโ€”โ€ Gran continued. โ€œWe have each other. And we have Lil.โ€
The way her gran said her name made the hair stand up on the back of her neck, but when she opened her mouth to question, her grandmother lifted her palm to her, a signal to Lil to hold her tongue.
Out of respect, she did.
โ€œLil. Youโ€™re on temporary reassignment.โ€
โ€œWhat are you talking about?โ€ Lil asked.
โ€œIโ€™m the owner, arenโ€™t I?โ€ she asked.
โ€œYes, but we agreed that I was in charge of daily operations.โ€
โ€œIโ€™ve changed my mind.โ€
โ€œGran.โ€
โ€œI can do your job. Nobody but you can do what we need you for now.โ€
Here was the plot then. Lilโ€™s skin crawled with a warning, but she asked anyway, โ€œAnd what is that?โ€
Gran handed her a glossy quarter sheet flyer in response. Lil read the largest print and then set it facedown on the table and brought her fingers to her temples.
Granโ€™s voice was soft when she next spoke. โ€œWe need the money, Lil. I donโ€™t see any other way.โ€
Lil groaned.
Gran added, โ€œYouโ€™re the best thereโ€™s ever been.โ€
The old woman wasnโ€™t pulling any punches.
Lilโ€™s voice flirted with the edge of hysteria. โ€œSays a nobodyโ€™s grandma with a stopwatch and pasture.โ€
โ€œโ€˜Nobodyโ€™s grandma?โ€™ Excuse you.โ€ She pointed to the third line of the flyer, โ€œDid you see the prize? There are no points required, just a qualifier. Itโ€™s part of the whole thing. Like American Idol.โ€
Lil went ahead and dove fully into hysteria. When she spoke, her voice squeaked high to low like a pubertal boy. โ€œAmerican Idol?โ€
Granโ€™s next words had the same effect as being hit by a bucket of cold water: โ€œYou could ride a bull.โ€
Lilโ€™s body froze and tingled at the same time.
She hadnโ€™t stepped foot in an arena in years and never competed in a PBRA-sponsored rodeo.
She had walked away a junior champion and ridden pro a few times in the Indian National Rodeo rodeos. Still, the world of rodeo mostly had forgotten about herโ€”except for the few administrators who would always remember her as the girl who had tried and failed, over and over, to get women into the PBRAโ€™s, the Professional Bull Riders Association, rough stock events. Because in Lilโ€™s mind, what did it matter if she won every other event if she couldnโ€™t win on the back of a bull?
She was skilled enough to have made a good living between womenโ€™s events in the PBRA and the Indian rodeos, but if she couldnโ€™t ride a bull under the banner of PBRA, she didnโ€™t want any of it.
So she rode for a college scholarship and then quit when she graduated instead. And then sheโ€™d come back to the ranch. End of story. And that was good enough for her.
Since her retirement, rodeo had opened up a lot, and she was happy for the younger generation. A handful of girls had even been allowed on top of bulls. None had made it far, but Lil knew it was only a matter of time.
She shook her head with a sigh. โ€œI canโ€™t, Gran. Iโ€™m rusty as an old nail, and thereโ€™s just too much to do around here. Besides, the ranch is too much for Tommy and Piper to run on their own.โ€
Gran snorted. โ€œYou work in the office most of the day, anyway.โ€
โ€œGran, you donโ€™t have the energy for it,โ€ Lil insisted.
โ€œEnergy? Hell, after more years of doing it than youโ€™ve been alive, I could do the ranchโ€™s books half asleepโ€”and have! I just let you take over because itโ€™s a snoozefest.โ€
โ€œSnoozefest? Gran, do you hear yourself?โ€ Lil turned to Piper and Tommy for help, โ€œYou donโ€™t support this, do you?โ€
Both shrugged.
Piper said, โ€œWe trust Gran.โ€
Gran crossed her arms in front of her chest and lifted a brow. โ€œThey trust me.โ€
โ€œItโ€™s a lot more work,โ€ Lil tried.
Tommy said, โ€œWeโ€™ve been doing more and more of it while youโ€™ve been up there pinching pennies.โ€
Lilโ€™s cheeks heated, but she didnโ€™t contradict him. He and Piper had been pulling more and more of her weight as she tried to do the impossible.
The impossible that she wasnโ€™t very good at. The impossible that Gran could do in her sleepโ€”which was true. Gran ran a tight ship, whatever ship she came to, and she had been far more organized in running Swallowtail Ranch than Lil could ever hope to be.
They had supported her through the last sad and stumbling years. Participating in this crazy scheme was what they were asking of her in return.
Mentally sweating, Lil pushed her chair back, its legs screeching across the floor, and stood up. Turning around, she headed to the door without saying another word.
โ€œWhere are you going, Lilian?โ€ Gran only used her full name when she got stern.
Lil stopped mid-step. โ€œIโ€™m going to clear out my desk,โ€ she said.
Behind her back, Gran smiled. Lil didnโ€™t have to see it to know it was true. Gran always smiled when she got what she wanted, and she always got what she wanted.
โ€œDonโ€™t worry about that now. Youโ€™ve got training to do. Gotten a bit out of shape, if you ask me.โ€
Piper erupted in a fit of witchy cackles as Lil stormed out of the kitchen. Ignoring them all, Lil went to her office.
On the second floor of the farmhouse, the room used to be her gran and granddadโ€™s bedroom, but she and Gran had turned it into the office after he passed. Gran said she couldnโ€™t bear to sleep in there alone.
It made a lovely officeโ€”wide and bright, with delicately framed French doors that led to a weight-bearing balcony. Weight-bearing because Lilโ€™s summer project last year had been to reinforce the support beams, replace the decking, and weather coat the whole thing.
She figured that should get her five yearsโ€™ worth of good use of Muskogeeโ€™s extreme annual mood swings before sheโ€™d need to do any repairs. That is if she kept up on refinishing it every year, which she had planned to, since walking out on the balcony had preserved her sanity after a long stint of pushing paper many a time.
She walked through the doors and stood there now, enjoying it while she could still call it hers. There were bills to pay, orders to fulfill, and emails to respond to, but that wasnโ€™t her job now. Now her job was to enter a rodeo contest and try to win some money to save the ranch.
And to think sheโ€™d thought the goats were bad.

Excerpted from The Wildest Ride by Marcella Bell, Copyright ยฉ 2021 by Marcella Bell. Published by HQN.

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[bctt tweet=”The Wildest Ride by Marcella Bell is an addictive, swoon-worthy romance set in the world of rodeo and the first in the Closed Circuit series #mustread #cowboys #romance #newrelease #netgalley #hqnbooks” username=”TtlyAdd2Reading”]

About Marcella Bell

Marcella Bell was born and raised in the Pacific Northwest. She is a registered yoga teacher, an avid reader, a honeybee enthusiast, and a lover of travel, corvids, and karaoke. A wife, mother, and child of a multicultural household, Marcella is especially interested in writing novels that reflect her family history, as well as the people and places sheโ€™s known throughout her life.ย 

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