Between the fees for the contestants and the charges to the spectators, the winners of each contest always left with a prize. Even if it wasn’t grand, at least it was something. The real money was made in the betting. Something she didn’t do. Ever. Not after all the trouble Dylan had gotten himself into as a result of gambling.

The horses trotted forward, not too fast or too slow. She used a few paces to get her balance and crouch into the rhythm of the up-and-down sway of first one horse and then the other. The jolting was challenging. But she’d learned that the more she relaxed into the movement, the easier it was.

She kept abreast of the other two riders who clutched at their reins and strained to hold their horses close enough together that the straddling wouldn’t get uncomfortable.

As the halfway point neared, she snapped the reins and clucked to the horses. Time to speed things up and give the crowd the show they were hoping for. The horses took her cue and lengthened their strides. But with the increase in speed, one of the mares veered from the other.

She jerked on the reins to keep the horse in line. But it only continued to pull away. Her boot began to slip. And although she grasped the leather straps as tightly as she could, she was gonna have to let go before she fell and crashed.

Chapter
2

Jericho Bliss pushed away from the barn and straightened, his muscles tensing. The little fellow at the front was losing his position on the left flank. In a matter of seconds, the horses would be too far apart for him to race. And he was destined for a terrible tumble, one that would put him in the direct path of the contenders behind him. Not only would he be trampled, but he’d possibly cause the other two riders to lose their footholds too.

Jericho gauged the distance between himself and the approaching disaster. He didn’t have time to intervene, not with the onlookers blocking his way. All he could do was watch with a churning gut.

Why had the man in front decided to go bareback? Without the saddle, he had less traction.

Jericho shook his head. The man was an idiot.

The crowd seemed to be holding a collective breath as the fellow fumbled and lost his footing. For several seconds, he rode with one leg hanging in the air.

Jericho cringed and waited for the fall.

Somehow, the man hung on to the reins from the runaway mount and began wrapping them around his wrist, tightening the slack between himself and the uncooperative horse. He had amazing control, drawing in the steady mare, bringing her closer to the other horse.