Page 88 of My Wild Horse King

A few moments later, we’re loading into the SUV again, my dirty clothing in the back, and Katerina’s staring out the window, her expression strange. Before we’ve even begun down the road, she turns toward me, her voice soft. “Do you think your dad really called a cousin he’d never met in America and asked for money?”

“I’m guessinghoundedis a better word for what he did,” I say. “My dad was very good at one thing—manipulating people into giving him money so he could get out of all the tight spots he backed himself into.”

“That’s not entirely fair,” Kris says. “Sometimes?—”

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s more than fair. You love him, and I try to understand that, but in my life, he’s done nothing but wreck everything I care about.”

Kris’s face crumples, but she doesn’t argue.

Which makes me feel like the villain. In some ways, maybe I am. My mom would certainly have expected me to forgive him if she were here. The only thing in the world she loved more than horses was him. I’ll never understand it, but I’m sure she’d tell me that I don’t have to understand. Love is just love.

Their inexplicable love ruined the whole concept for me.

It always looked like another way to be duped.

“We’re here.”

I don’t see a fairground anywhere close. “Are we?”

“It’s a mile that way.” Aleks points. “But if we drive up and unload there, I’m guessing people might have some questions.”

“I checked out the map.” Kristiana brandishes a map book that looks like it sat inside the gas station for twenty-six years before someone without a phone finally bought it. “The only thing along this stretch for maybe half a mile is a tiny farm—and I saw some scrub brush back there that should block your view of the road. You can change and just ride her back down this path until it dead-ends into the fairground.”

“We’ll head along to the rodeo and find a parking spot and seats,” Mirdza says.

I keep forgetting how insane all this is. I’m going to be riding in a barrel race—which is already ridiculous enough—and I’ll be ridinga personwho’s turning into a horse for it. Only Katerina and I need to get out, which seems obvious now that we’re doing it, but I wasn’t thinking about it until now. Although we don’t have a lot of gear, it falls to me to lug the saddle, saddle pad, and bridle, because I’m not about to fob it off on Katerina.

“I can at least take that.” She reaches for the saddle pad at the same time that I swing the saddle over my shoulder, and I nearly clock her in the face with the pommel.

“Oh.” I drop the saddle on the ground and reach for her, wanting to make sure she’s alright. The motion takes her off guard, and she falls back, losing her balance and nearly stumbling. I grab her wrist and yank her forward, and suddenly she’s leaning against my chest, both hands braced against my pecs. Her eyes are wide, and her breathing’s shallow.

“Sorry.” I shake my head. “That was clumsy.”

But she’s not moving, and I don’t really want her to move, either. I stare at her, entranced by the contrast of her flame-red hair and golden-green eyes. It’s a disturbingly beautiful combination.

“Wow, you’re the definition of a one-trick pony,” someone mutters behind us. It’s a girl’s voice. “Not that it’ll work any better for her this time.”

Katerina stiffens and shoves away from me. She’s fast, but I can see her cheeks flush before she turns.

I turn and scowl at everyone in the car, directing most of my heat at Adriana. It might not be based on any evidence, but I’m guessing she’s the one who made the snarky remark. By the time I grab the saddle and sling it over my shoulder, I have to jog to catch up with Katerina.

“What was that about?” I ask. “One trick?”

She walks faster.

I throw the bridle over my shoulder and use my free hand to grab her shoulder. “Hey.”

When she does turn around, she’s crying.

“What’s going on?”

She shakes her head and wipes her cheeks. “Nothing.”

“Something.”

“It’s just—now that I’ve actually given up on Alexei, they won’t let me.”

Oh.

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