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him and his career, was as dangerous as any drug out there. As long as it kept happening, he didn’t see compelling motivation to make a change coming anytime soon.
    Now was not the time or place for introspection. He was there to put Skeeter on the proper path to becoming a champion. The straight and narrow road Cooper had strayed from. The kid idolized him, so it was doubly important that the crooked line his own life had taken not serve as an example for this kid.
    It might be too late for him, but if nothing else, he could point Skeeter in the right direction. “You’re ready for this, kid. Get on up there and take your wrap.”
    After a nod, the boy climbed up to the top rail. Before he lowered himself into the chute, he glanced up and scanned the crowd.
    Cooper knew who he was looking for. “Your mom’s here, kid. She’s watching. Don’t you worry about that. Concentrate on the ride. She’ll be waiting for you when you get done.”
    Skeeter glanced back at Cooper and nodded one more time before lowering himself onto the back of the bull.
    He hadn’t lied to Hannah when he’d told her the bulls would be appropriate to the level of skill in the junior division. The one that Skeeter had gotten in the draw was small. It had to be. The rules specified no animal could weigh more than 750 pounds in the nine to twelve-year-old boys division. Skeeter had ridden bigger animals at Cooper’s place. He could handle this one.
    After being a bit jumpy when it had first run into the chute, the bull stood calmly now even as Cooper balanced his boot heels on the rails and reached to grab the end of Skeeter’s rope. He used both hands to pull the rope tight before handing it off to Skeeter.
    It wasn’t lost on Cooper that in his lifetime he’d ridden at some of the biggest and most famous arenas and events in the world. Las Vegas. Calgary. Madison Square Garden. Yet there he was feeling a little nervous while pulling the rope for a boy in the junior division of a local event in Arkansas.
    The strangest part was Cooper felt really good. It was as if he was doing something important. Something that mattered.
    Skeeter wrapped the rope around his gloved hand, laid it across his palm before closing his fingers and pounding his closed fist like Cooper had shown him. It was a textbook wrap. Glancing down, he made sure the kid’s feet were in proper position. His heels were in, his toes out and his spurs were clear of the rope—proof the kid did listen when Cooper talked, even if most days he seemed to bounce off the rails with excitement over getting to ride.
    Cooper caught Skeeter’s attention. “Whenever you’re ready, you give the gateman a nod.”
    The kid pounded his fist one more time and then wiggled his ass on the back of the bull as if checking that he was centered. When he finally nodded, it was accompanied by a muffled, “Go!”
    The gateman swung the gate wide. On that cue, the bull dug his hooves into the soft dirt and rocketed into the arena. The damn animal had gone from docile to powerhouse in a matter of seconds, but Skeeter maintained his center even through the force of the changes.
    For being small and lean, the animal was a good, strong bucker. If Skeeter could hang on to his rope for the eight seconds and not get fouled for a slap, he could get a damn good score.
    It was a nearly perfect ride. The kid broke at the hips, absorbing the energy of every leap the animal made. The bull started out spinning into Skeeter’s riding hand only to reverse to spin against it, but the kid made the adjustment and hung on.
    The buzzer sounded and Skeeter reached down with his free arm, yanked the tail of his bull rope and released his wrap. Throwing his leg over the bull’s head and jumping off on the outside of the spin, he made a perfect dismount, even landing on his feet. Cooper finally let himself breathe after holding his breath for the duration of the ride.
    “Holy shit, that kid can ride. He yours?” The voice