“Only if we know what we’re doing?” Dylan pointed to Jackson with his beer bottle. “You ought to be willing to get up on one of them, rodeo man.” He took a swallow of beer and glanced at Rogue. “What about you?”

“Hell, yeah. I’ve been on a horse a time or two. Or maybe three.”

“I’m serious, you guys,” Killian insisted. “If you don’t know what you’re doing, someone can get hurt.”

“Hell, I’ll help.” Jackson pushed himself out of his chair. “Come on. ...