Beauty and the Bull Rider (Hotel Rodeo #3)(5)

“Hell, Zac. I don’t know what to say. I’d be honored to take you on as a partner.”

Zac’s eyes held Ty’s as he slowly drained his whiskey. Setting the shot glass down, he offered his hand with a smile. “I think you just made me an offer I can’t refuse.”





CHAPTER TWO


Stephens County Expo Center

Duncan, Oklahoma



“Next up is P280, a black frosty neck. This little heifer, by an own son of Little Yellow Jacket out of a Shorty granddaughter, is getting buck and kick from both sides. Just look at her action on the video, folks.” Although she’d watched the same video on YouTube dozens of times, Delaney’s eyes were still riveted to the screen.

She glanced down at the sale catalog as the auctioneer continued, “Her dam has been a great producer, calving numerous champions. This little heifer would make a great foundation cow for a prospective bucking herd.”

Her goal had been to add breeding prospects to her herd, but she had yet to buy even one. The whole auction process had gone so fast it almost made her head spin. P280 was the last heifer, and Delaney was determined to take her home. Truth be told, she had enough money to match most any bid in the house, but she wasn’t looking to lose her ass just for the sake of pride.

Maybe injured pride was the original impetus behind her livestock operation, with more than a dash of desire for some payback, but not anymore. What had begun purely on a whim was now her obsession—not just to breed genetically superior livestock, but to be regarded as a contender in the male-dominated world of stock contracting.

The chute opened, and P280 trotted out and spun to regard the crowd, looking as proud as a queen amongst her court. Then again, her bloodline was surely the bluest of bovines’. The bidding began at three thousand. Who could have known how damned competitive it would be?

Delaney was first to raise her paddle, only to be overlooked by the auctioneer.

“I got three. Three thousand. Gimme thirty-five hundred? Thirty-five? Thirty-five for this pretty little heifer?”

Listening intently for the almost unintelligible numbers as the auctioneer began his chant, she raised her paddle again.

“Gimme thirty five hundred? Abletobid thirty-five?”

Was the man near-sighted or was this some kind of conspiracy? She threw the catalog down with a huff of frustration.

“You wanting to bid on that heifer?” came a gravelly baritone from behind.

She twisted in her seat, to meet a familiar deep green gaze shadowed by a well-worn Stetson. Zac McDaniel’s appearance at the auction was a complete surprise. Last she’d heard, he was in Las Vegas with Ty.

“Zac? What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Same thing as you.” He raised his paddle to the auctioneer.

The auctioneer nodded in Zac’s direction. “Yep. Yep. Thirty-five. Four. Four thousand, anyone?”

“Did you just bid on my heifer?” she asked in annoyance.

“Sure did.”

The auctioneer nodded to a bidder across the room. “I got four now. Abletobid five? Five. Five thousand now. Wouldjagimme five?”

Zac nodded, raising his bid.

Delaney spun around to face him head on. “Damn you, Zac! You have no right to buy my heifer.”

The auctioneer continued his chant. “I got five now. Five thousand for this prime little heifer. Six? Abletobid six? Six? Six thousand. Wouldjagimme six?”

Growing more perturbed by the second, Delaney raised her number again. The auctioneer nodded to her left. “I got six now. Seven. Seven thousand? Wouldjagimme seven?”

“Damn it all!” Delaney cursed, barely holding back the urge to stomp her foot. “Why the hell can’t I bid?”

“Seven. Seven thousand? Wouldjagimme seven?”

Delaney raised her paddle again.

“Sixty-five then. Wouldjagimme sixty-five hundred?” The auctioneer repeated his call.

Zac tipped his hat. The auctioneer once more acknowledged his bid. “Yep. Yep. Got Sixty-five now. I got sixty-five hundred. Gimme seven now? Seven thousand? Wouldjagimme seven?”

“Looks like I’m gonna leave here with your heifer on my trailer,” Zac said with a smirk.

“Over my dead body. I want her, Zac.”

“How high you willin’ to go?” he asked with a cocked brow.

“Seven? Seven thousand? Abletobid seven? Seven? Seven thousand? Abletobid seven?” The auctioneer looked past both Delaney and Zac to the counter bidder. “Got seven now,” he cried. “Eight. Eight thousand. Someone gimme eight?”

“As high as I need to,” Delaney ground through her teeth. “I’m not leaving here without that cow, Zac. I don’t care what it costs me.”

“That so?” Zac asked.

“Eight? Eight? Abletobid eight?” the auctioneer repeated one more time, disregarding Delaney’s frantically waving paddle.

“What the hell is happening here?” Delaney asked. “Am I being blackballed?”

“Maybe so,” Zac said. “Sure seems like someone doesn’t want to sell to you. You might as well quit now. You’re just driving the price up.”

“Eight? Gimme eight? Last time,” the auctioneer called.

“Seventy-five hundred,” Zac called out to the auctioneer. He then turned back to Delaney, “There doesn’t seem to be any point in bidding against each other, being that we’re neighbors and all.”