Page 71 of The Chances We Take

He was the person I could go to, no matter what. And I knew I was that for him too. I’d made sure of it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

reid

LAST DECEMBER: THE NATIONAL FINALS RODEO, LAS VEGAS, NV

Welcome to the tenth and final night of the Wrangler National Finals Rodeo!”

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as the announcer welcomed fans into the Thomas & Mack Center. We were neck and neck for a World Championship with a team out of Texas. Only about $20,000 separated us, so it came down to whoever won this last round.

After winning the NFR Average last year, a lot of pressure weighed on us to perform well and succeed, even more so than normal.

The grand entry and National Anthem flew by in a blur, and as they kicked off the performance with bareback riding, nerves started to creep up my skin and sweat trickled down my back.

I wasn’t sure if I looked tense, but Colter’s face contorted with concern when he looked at me. He knew what panicking before a performance looked and felt like, and he had learned tactics to help ground himself and had always shared them with me.

I couldn’t remember if I had gone through my pre-performance routine prior to tonight. If I hadn’t, it was too late; they were already starting the next event and we’d have to rope soon.

“Are you all right?” Colter asked, voice low and rumbling.

“Mm-hmm, yep. Fine. I’m fine.” I choked out a wobbly string of words, attempting to reassure Colter but failing to convince myself.

He gave me a suspicious look, like he didn’t quite believe me, but he didn’t push the subject.

Breathe, Reid.

I looked around, subconsciously identifying five things I could see: the dirt on the arena floor, Colter, the bucking chutes, flags hanging from the arena rafters, and the full grandstands; three things I could hear: horses and livestock, the cheering of fans, music playing in the arena; and something I could feel: sweat, warm and sticky, pooling on my palms.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our next event is the team roping. You’ve seen them compete all week now. We’ve got the fifteen best headers and heelers in the world tonight! Let’s kick it off with…” The announcer called out the first team roping pair.

We were set to rope thirteenth in the lineup. There was no predicting the time we’d have to clock tonight; on any given night, it could be in the three-second range or the five-second range—you just didn’t know how everyone else would compete.

We waited for our names to be called, keeping our arms warm by occasionally swinging our ropes and calming our restless horses.

Five-point-two.

Four-point-seven.

Four-point-three.

Each time a team roping duo moved up the leaderboard, I made a mental note of what our time would have to be to win the round.

“Our next team roping duo comes out of Silver Creek, Montana. They’re neck and neck for the number-one spot in the world standings right now, sitting second with total earnings of $217,246 and $215,382 respectively.” The announcer read off our stats, and I tried my best to block out all of the noise surrounding me. “Rodeo fans, let’s hear it for Colter Carson and Reid Lawson!”

Colter nodded to me, and we rode our horses into the roping boxes.

I tilted my head both ways, cracking my neck and closing my eyes. Chants and cheers amplified, and my senses were overwhelmed by the atmosphere.

I snapped my eyes open, looking over at Colter and giving him my signal that I was ready. I gripped my rope and the reins harder, focusing all of my attention on roping.

Then Colter nodded and the chute was opened.

The steer bolted from the chute, and Colter’s horse waited a split second before exploding out of the box in a show of pure athleticism. My horse followed shortly after, racing after the steer.

As Colter swung his rope, pressure crept up my skin, making my stomach drop and my body itch. I blinked, trying to focus as I started swinging my rope.

“That’s a clean catch for Colter Carson!” the announcer called out.

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