Reviews:
"Kentucky Cowboy was a wonderful, heartfelt
western romance that I really enjoyed reading. It was a classic
tale about tragedy, despair, love and second chances. Judd
was my type of cowboy – he was very tough when needed
to be, compassionate and downright gorgeous. There was no
woman who could resist his alluring southern charm, not even
Mandy. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, the desire
was still strong between them. The plot moved at an excellent
pace while showing the difficult process of rediscovery and
forgiveness. Readers, you can’t go wrong with Kentucky
Cowboy!" Reviewed by Nikita Steele, Joyfully
Reviewed
 "Jan
Scarbrough did an excellent job with these two characters.
She wrote in a steady pace and smooth flow, and brought the
characters to life in my mind. I look forward to reading
the other books in the Bluegrass Reunion Series." Rated
4 Delightful Divas by Melissa!
 "Ms.
Jan Scarbrough has done an exceptional job of telling this
story. Her two main characters were vibrant,
believable individuals who never got over that high school
attraction. Each of them was a success in life, but together,
even though the sensuality was dynamic, they were much like
oil and water. The conflicts made the love stand out so much
more." - Reviewer: Brenda Talley
“Excellent tension, conflict.
The hero’s voice is cowboy perfect.” Timna Gainey,
contest judge
• Winner
2006 PASIC Book of Your Heart Contest, Contemporary Series
Romance
• 3rd place 2006 Great Expectations Contest, North Texas RWA,
Long Contemporary
• 3rd place 2007 Happily Ever After Contest, Mid-Michigan
RWA, Series Romance
"An
authentic cowboy in all his appealing glory...Jan Scarbrough
pens a hero to fall in love with!" - Bestselling Author Joanne Rock
Excerpt:
CHAPTER ONE
“
Short Go” at a PBR Event in Dallas, Texas
“That’s one rank sonofabitch. Good draw you got,
Romeo.”
Judd Romeo nodded. “Yep, he’s a mean ’un.” Perched
on top of a six-foot deep metal chute, a leather bull rope
clutched in his right hand, he acknowledged the flank man.
“Ain’t named Bad to the Bone for nuthin’,” the
other man said.
Judd turned his attention to the 1900-pound Charolais-cross
bull beneath him in the chute. It was good luck to draw last
year’s bucking bull of the year. All he had to do was
stick on this sucker for eight seconds and he’d have
a win. No doubt about it.
Judd expelled a deep breath and rubbed his wet palms across
his Wranglers. Pre-ride jitters. Nothing unusual. He’d
gotten them before. He’d have them again. If he didn’t
get ’em, he didn’t get that edge he needed to stay
on one of these big, bad bulls.
Still, Judd’s gut twisted as he eyed stock contractor
Tim Wilson’s bull. Other riders said this bull lived
up to his name, and they talked about how Bad to the Bone threw
up his head and smashed a guy’s face once. Yet the bull
was allowed back into the chutes, and cowboys kept trying to
ride him.
Now it was Judd’s turn. Adrenaline pumped through his
veins. A thin line of sweat peppered his lip. He backhanded
it off. Winning was the reason he had busted his butt on the
circuit. He was a professional bull rider and a damn good one.
This year he had a legitimate shot at the world title and the
million dollar bonus.
Too bad his father didn’t care.
Why think about Jared Romeo now? His dad had never approved
of him, let alone his desire to ride bulls for a living.
He had proven his old man wrong, hadn’t he?
Judd drew a breath. Damn, why was he was chewing on the past
when he needed to focus?
He slowly put on his leather riding glove, directing his gaze
toward the packed arena. How he loved this life. The noisy
crowd. The blaring rock music and high-tech pyrotechnics. The
earthy smells of dirt, sweat and manure. The camaraderie and
danger. Eight seconds of heart-stopping thrills. Stunned silence
when a competitor didn’t get up. Applause and cheers
when the cowboy stood and staggered like a drunk out of the
arena.
His father had never understood this excitement. The beauty
of man tackling beast.
Mandy didn’t get it either. He had loved that girl in
high school, but she had just seen the danger and walked away
from him.
Judd looked away from the crowd. Riding bulls was all he wanted
to do. All he knew how to do. It was in his blood.
He tried to swallow over the lump in his throat. His mother
had appreciated his passion. She had understood.
The chute boss turned to him. “You’re up, Romeo.”
Judd’s head snapped up. “Right.”
His pulse kicked up a notch. Time to ride. This one’s
for you, Mom.
Judd rubbed more rosin on his gloved riding hand and tugged
his black Resistol down over his eyes. He plucked a mouthpiece
out of the pocket of his protective vest and popped it into
his mouth. Ready, he slipped from the railing and eased down
on the bull’s flat back.
Bad to the Bone snorted and shifted in the chute. Judd slid
his gloved hand into the leather handle of the bull rope, and
another cowboy leaned over the railing to cinch the rope around
the animal’s girth. Judd’s lips tightened.
“He usually goes out three or four big jumps,” the
flank man warned, “and then spins like a sonofabitch.”
Judd jerked a nod of thanks, his total concentration now on
the rope in his right hand. He sucked a deep breath and glanced
at the other cowboy beside him.
“You gonna suicide it, Romeo?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn risky.”
Judd knew the risks of a suicide wrap. He also knew the rewards.
Expertly he wrapped the rope around his gloved hand and the
bull strap. Next he split the little finger from the others
with a second wrap. For good measure, he pounded his curled,
leather-covered fingers with his left fist.
Then with his grip secure, he scooted up over the right hand
and tightened his legs against the bull. Blood rushed in his
ears. He gulped another quick breath.
“Let’s roll!”
The gate flew open and the bull blew out of the chute jumping
high into the air. The animal lunged thirty feet in two jumps
and spun to the right, kicking high. Judd gripped the bull
rope. Each jerk wrenched his riding arm and shoulder socket.
Riding directly in the center of the bull’s back, he
dug the blunt rowels of his spurs into the animal’s hide.
His free hand snapped at a ninety-degree angle over his head.
His insides churned like a cement mixer.
Bad to the Bone changed tactics and spun faster to the left.
Judd went with him. Forcing air through his lungs, he concentrated
on staying in the center. He didn’t want to drop down
into the middle of the spin. His inner clock ticked away six
seconds.
Judd opened up and began spurring the bull. His timing was
good. He was making points, but his calves no longer touched
the animal’s sides. Any lurch or twist could dust his
butt into the dirt.
Damn, this is good. No amount of money could buy this kind
of high. He was winning. Riding the rankest damn bull on the
circuit and beating the socks off the competition.
The eight-second buzzer signaled the end of the ride. He’d
stuck it! The crowd roared its approval.
Like a fool, he kept riding. He loved it. The only thing better
would be seeing his father’s face when he won the world
title.
Preparing to dismount Judd yanked the tail of the rope to
release his riding hand. The bull switched directions at that
moment, bucking hard, and jerked him down and away from his
grip. His hand caught up in the rope.
Judd fell, still attached to the powerful bull thrashing beneath
him. Whipping from side to side like laundry in a stiff breeze,
he tried to get his feet under him to lunge back on top of
the creature so he could release the pressure on the rope.
It was the only way to free his hand.
A bullfighter dashed to the opposite side of the bull, grabbing
at the rope. “Judd, I’ll getcha!”
Gritting his teeth, Judd stretched his free hand toward his
entangled fist. The bull was too fast, too erratic. Finally
the spinning and bucking motion ripped his hand free.
Judd slammed face first into the dirt. The bull’s hoof
skimmed over his head.
A second bullfighter intervened, shouting at the bull and
tossing his hat in the opposite direction to provide a distraction.
The bull swerved to charge the courageous bullfighter. Judd
sucked in desperate gasps of breath and speed-crawled away
from the flying hooves and sharp horns. When he scrambled to
his feet, he lurched toward the rail.
The first bullfighter reached his side. “You okay?”
Searing pain shot down his right arm and up his neck. “My
arm hurts like hell.”
Judd let his riding arm hang by his side. He raised his good,
left hand and high-fived the bullfighter. “Thanks, Buzz.
I owe you.”
“Just doing my job.” The bullfighter grinned.
He reached down and snatched Judd’s hat out of the dirt.
Judd took it. An approving burst of applause and cheers shook
the arena. He battled a surge of nausea, but still managed
to acknowledge the fans with a wave of his hat. Then a doctor
from the sports medicine team reached him.
“You got ninety,” the doc said, ushering him out
of the arena. “Highest score of the night. Puts you in
the lead.”
He had won. It had been the best ride of his life. Winning
this event kept him in first place for the world championship
title and the million dollar bonus.
Taking deep breaths, Judd reached the gate and turned back
to the arena. The barrel man climbed into his padded barrel,
his clown smile spreading wide across the white greasepaint
that covered his face. The pickup man spurred his horse into
position at the end of the arena.
“Let’s look at that shoulder, Judd.”
Judd winced. “Sure, doc.”
Sweat spiked his brow. Although it hurt like crazy, he knew
he’d be okay. With a few weeks before the next set of
competitions before the October finals in Las Vegas, he had
time to heal.
Judd turned away from the noise and the lights. Hot pain throbbed
in his shoulder, but it didn’t match the pain in his
heart.
He would take care of his arm, and then he would go home to
Kentucky. Back to say good-bye to his Mom and take care of
her things. Mandy would be there. But his father wouldn’t
be.
Maybe it was time to extinguish the torch he had carried for
damn too long.
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