Page 76 of A Cowboy in the Streets

I stood there, rooted to the spot, my hand held protectively over my aching chest, while they ducked through the fence into the field.

The crunch of a twig underfoot alerted me to my dad’s presence. He cleared his throat. “They bringing in the horses?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice hoarse.

He looked at me, then out to the field where James was bribing a chestnut with a carrot. He put a hand on my shoulder and shook his head. “You’ve got it bad, son. Can’t say I didn’t see this coming.”

Funny. Because I hadn’t seen James coming at all.

Chapter 31

James

I was a nervous wreck.

Belle didn’t seem nervous at all as Essie urged her into a trot, letting her stretch her legs in the warm-up ring before their event. She was curious and energetic as she took in her strange surroundings and—to my great relief—not fighting the bit. Essie, too, was totally calm and collected, even when another rider in the ring cut her off, causing her horse to kick dust in Belle’s face.

“You got wipes, James?” Adam asked. Calmly, because he was another person who apparently had nerves of steel.

“Of course.” I was about to puke up my breakfast—pancakes, courtesy of Adam, with a side of chocolate chips, courtesy of Ben—but I was still a professional. I had a full grooming kit in the trailer, plus emergency supplies in my bag.

“Let’s go make her pretty again.”

“Why aren’t you nervous?” I demanded. “I’m literally sweating right now.”

“Everyone’s sweating. It’s almost August. And I’m not nervous because there’s nothing to be nervous about. Honestly, I never truly believed we’d be here. But we are. Because of you. You got Belle here. Of course I hope she’ll do well, but you know as well as I do that we can’t control that outcome. Doing well requires both training and luck. You did the training. Now we have to wait and see if our luck holds. If not, there will be other shows. Your training made sure of that.”

“Oh.” I blinked. I had worked myself to the bone, hoping to hear those words from my dad. They never came. And here was Adam, spouting them off, easy as pie.

He was a step ahead of me, scanning the crowd for a way through, and his hand bumped against mine as he reached for me behind him. A voice inside my head told me to push it away. It wasn’t professional to hold hands. I had to prove I was good enough to be here all on my own, without anyone else helping me. No one would take me seriously. I wasn’t enough. That voice sounded a lot like my dad.

But there was another voice that whispered to put my hand in his. I did my job well. My proof was in the horses I had trained. Holding hands couldn’t diminish that. I was enough right now.

And that voice sounded like mine. So I listened.

I watched as my hand, so much smaller than his but just as calloused, was engulfed by his. He glanced over his shoulder at me like he was seeking reassurance. You okay with this? I smiled and nudged him forward with the toe of my boot. I’m okay. Like we had our own private language that consisted of eyebrow twitches and lip tilts.

It was the right choice, I realized, as he led me through the crowd. Wherever this man went, I wanted to follow. And when I was in the lead, I one hundred percent knew he had my back. That was how it worked with us.

And that was why I was ready to puke pancakes while he was cool as a cucumber.

I wasn’t nervous for myself. I wasn’t nervous for Essie. I wasn’t even nervous for Belle. I was nervous for Adam. More than anything—even more than proving myself to my dad—I wanted it to go well for him. I wanted Belle to be so awesome today that it lifted some of the weight he carried on his shoulders. I wanted her performance to launch Lodestar Ranch back into the spotlight where it belonged.

Adam wasn’t worried about any of that. Because he trusted me to get it done. If not with this show, then the next one. He believed in me.

Damn.

It felt good.

“How does she feel?” Adam asked Essie as I produced a packet of wipes from my bag and gently cleaned the dust from Belle’s white star.

“Good.” Essie leaned forward and gave Belle a firm pat on her neck, right below her cream-colored mane. “Ready.”

“How do you feel?” I asked.

She tilted her head. “You know how sometimes before a show, a string of little things goes wrong, one right after the other, and it’s a sign? Like, this isn’t your day. You should have slept in instead.”

I nodded slowly. Off days. Nothing you could do except laugh and try again next time.

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