Third-Time Lucky Read Free Page B

the rules to Richie Stewart. “You just give your horse his head and let the sucker blast out of the starting gate and around the course. You rein him around the barrels as best you can. If you’re still in the saddle when you hit the exit, you’ve got a chance.”
    “Go for it!” Lisa urged. “Kirstie and me are entered.”
    “Yeah, but …” The visitor from New Hampshire frowned uncertainly. His older brother, Craig, had just fallen off his horse and landed in the dust. Next it was his younger brother Brad’s turn on Crazy Horse.
    “What have you got to lose?” Lisa asked.
    “My pride!” came the swift reply from the fair-haired boy. “I’d hardly even been on a horse before I came to Half Moon Ranch.”
    “So?”
    “So I don’t have a chance of winning against you guys.” Richie looked on nervously as a ten-year-old dude rider shot out of the starting gate on Jitterbug. The sorrel mare raced for the nearest barrel, made a sliding stop in a cloud of yellow dust and turned. Then she loped hard for the next barrel.
    “If that kid can do it, so can you.” Taking no argument from Richie, Lisa dragged him down from the fence and across to Charlie, whose job it was to enter the competitors on a list. “Richie Stewart,” she told the junior wrangler. “Put him on Rodeo Rocky, OK!”
    Back on the fence, Kirstie grinned at Tommy. “Lisa likes him,” she explained wryly. “That’s just her way of showing it.”
    “He’s not happy.” Tommy grinned back, jumping to the ground and pulling on a pair of leather gloves. It was his turn to ride. The kid on Jitterbug had achieved a time of fifty-two seconds, the fastest so far.
    “Who are you riding?” Kirstie asked, going along to the starting point with Tommy in order to get Lucky ready.
    “Johnny Mohawk.”
    She wished him luck on the high-spirited black gelding, slipped into the barn for a quick look at the little appie, then back into the corral in time to see the vet’s son complete the course in forty-nine seconds flat. The crowd applauded as Tommy slid from the saddle. Then they fell quiet again as a tense-looking Richie Stewart came up to the starting gate. Kirstie saw Matt open the gate and Rocky blast out into the arena. The bay’s coat gleamed in the sun; his black mane and tail streamed out as he made the first barrel in record time, spun on a spot the size of a silver dollar, then raced on.
    Kirstie grinned. Rodeo Rocky was in his element, despite his relatively novice rider. He showed off his amazing bursts of speed in front of an audience. His wild past on the plains of Wyoming showed through in the smoothness of his action, the power of his bunched muscles. And, to his credit, Richie hung on through all the twists and turns, giving the horse his head and coming out with a time of forty-seven seconds.
    “C’mon, Lucky, that’s our target.” Kirstie led her palomino to line up behind Lisa and Snowflake.
    Lucky held back until the gate was clear, making room for Richie and Rodeo Rocky to pass by. The boy from New Hampshire was breathless and triumphant, but trying not to show it. “Cool!” he told Kirstie, sliding from the saddle and leading his horse away.
    Out in the arena, Lisa was not so lucky. She and Snowflake made the third of the six barrels in good time, but then they misjudged the turn. Snowflake swerved wide and fast, running Lisa up against the fence.
    “Ooh!” The crowd gasped and jumped back in the nick of time. Snowflake thundered by, Lisa’s left stirrup hit the fence, and her foot slipped out. “Aah!” Another cry as the horse slid to an uncontrolled halt and tipped her unbalanced rider forward over the saddle horn.
    “Wow!” Richie Stewart looked back in time to see Lisa part company with Snowflake. She tumbled headfirst over the horse’s neck, did a complete forward flip, and landed on her butt.
    “Unintentional dismount,” Kirstie murmured. She could tell right away that the only thing her friend had