Page 72 of Rough Ride

“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” he grinned. “I said a lot of things last night, and I wasn’t exactlysober.”

“Joining forces,” I replied, finding it difficult to actually say the word. “Sharing, uh, Sophie.”

“Oh! You mean was I serious about havin’ a threesome with her?”

I glanced around us. “You don’t have to say it so loud.”

“Don’t know why you’re embarrassed,” Eli replied with a warm smile. “And of course I was serious. I bet Sophie’d be into that, and it’s not like she has a lot of days off. If I had to choose between sharing her with you whenever she’s free, or not gettin’ with her at all, well, that decision’s as easy as vanilla ice cream on apple pie.”

He gently tugged the reins and led Buttercup toward the arena entrance.

A minute later, the loudspeaker crackled to life and called four numbers—including mine—to the starting blocks. I opened the gate and led my own horse after Eli.

The roar of the arena grew louder as we walked up the concrete ramp into the temporary stalls that were adjacent to the starting block. There were two riders ahead of me in the queue: Eli was first atop Buttercup, followed by Sawyer sitting astride his black Mustang. Eli was too busy being led into the starting block to seeme, but Sawyer gave me a slow nod of respect before returning his focused gaze to the arena.

Once Eli and his horse were in the starting block, everything happened quickly. His name was announced over the arena loudspeaker, and then one second later the chute flew open.

From my spot in the waiting stall, I didn’t have a great view of the action. But I could tell what was happening based on the crowd cheers. It was over in just a few heartbeats, and I gazed up at the massive scoreboard in the center of the arena along with Sawyer and everyone else.

HAWKSHAW: 5.09s

I grimaced. That wasn’t abadtime, but it wasn’t enough to put him in the top three.

“You’dbetterbeat that time,” Eli told me as he exited the arena with his horse.

“That’s the idea,” I replied as Sawyer moved into the starting block.

Once again, I couldn’t see the action, but the excited cheers told me everything I needed to know before the score flashed above:

EASTON: 4.26s

That was good enough to put Sawyer in second place. He didn’t smile as he left the arena, but he was breathing heavily like he wanted to let out a shout of excitement.

“Hell yeah,” I told him as he passed by. “Nice job.”

I extended a fist toward him, for a moment forgetting that Sawyer never showed any camaraderie toward his fellowcompetitors. Then, to my surprise, he reached up and bumped it with his own fist. His lip even curled in a sneer that wasalmosta smile.

I blinked in surprise as he disappeared underneath the arena. If he was willing to fist-bump me, he was pleased with his score indeed. Or he was softening with age.

Nah. I doubted it was that.

Then the gate before me opened and a rodeo assistant was guiding my horse into the starting block. I scratched him behind the ear, hoping it would keep him calm. My heart quickened as the announcer boomed my name across the whole arena, and I wondered where Sophie was tonight. I hoped she was serving beer and would watch my performance.

Or maybe I didn’t want her to be there. She had seen my first failure, after all.

I quickly pushed the thought down. No. She had already seen one failure, and tonight I was determined to show her a triumph.

I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and found some semblance of peace.

Then the peace was gone as the gate flew open. My horse exploded forward into the arena like he was trained to do, veering to the right slightly to chase the steer. I stood up in the stirrups and leaped, soaring weightlessly for a fraction of a second above the horned animal. Then I landed on its back, my fingers automatically wrapping around the horns as I threw my weight sideways, pulling the animal to the ground with every bit of strength I possessed.

A horn sounded. I let go of the animal, who was quickly ushered away by two more rodeo assistants, but I barely noticed as I leaped to my feet and stared up at the arena scoreboard. It felt like I had done well enough to move into first place, but timehad a way of slowing down when you were wrestling an animal to the ground. My heart pounded as I waited. The judges had to confirm that I hadn’t broken any rules before they showed the time, but it seemed to be lasting an eternity.

When the number did appear, I could hardly believe my eyes.

ARMSTRONG: 3.82s

I let out a cry of victory, but it was drowned out by the crowd’s deafening roar when they saw the winning score. I was now firmly in first place, bumping Sawyer down to third.

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