Page 49 of Ace of Spades
“Woah woah, where do you think you’re going?” Weston asks.
I look back and forth between him and the arena.
“The arena. I thought we were riding?”
“There are other places to ride. This isn’t about practicing, remember? It’s about reconnecting with your horse.”
With that, he slides a booted foot into the stirrup, pulling himself up and swinging his leg until he’s sitting in the saddle. I do the same, Casino taking a few little antsy steps to the side before I correct her.
“Come on,” Weston tells me, turning Lark and leading the way towards the back corner of the ranch that his house resides on.
“Where are we going?” I ask him again.
“No more questions, Sorrels,” he says. “Just follow.”
We walk along the dirt path leading up to his house and my trailer, veering off into the trees as Weston leads us down a rocky incline into the woods.
“You’re not taking me in here to murder me, are you? Cause I’m telling you right now, Lark may be fast, but there’s no way she’s outrunning Casino,” I tell him.
“Trust me, Sorrels—If I wanted to murder you, I would’ve already done it by now.”
“So does that mean you like me, then?” I tease.
“Enough not to murder you,” he jokes, turning around to offer me a wink. I can’t help the smile that crosses my face, my demeanor already lightening.
“So, what got you into rodeo?” he asks, our horses maneuvering around a fallen log.
“Why does anybody get into rodeo,” I answer. “The adrenaline. The love for speed. The bond you form with your animal.”
“And what about the real reason,” he pushes, giving me a pointed look.
“Alright, you got me,” I say, rolling my eyes. “But for the record, those are all still accurate. But I guess at first, it started out because it was mine. Everything I ever had was given to me. Rodeo was the first thing I had to earn. And yeah, I was lucky enough to have a family that could afford me the best horses, the best trainers, the best tack, and a state-of-the-art facility. But those early mornings and late evenings? That was me. Those hours spent in the arena, training my own horses from the ground up because Iwanted that bond? That was me. The wins? All me. It was something that I could honestly say I had earned myself.”
He stays quiet, nothing but the sounds of the hooves in the dirt echoing around us as the afternoon sun occasionally peeks through the branches.
“I respect that,” he finally speaks. “I can’t say I know what that’s like. But I respect it. And just for the record, I’ve always noticed your drive. It still doesn’t mean that I’m your biggest fan, but it’s… admirable.”
I’m glad he’s walking in front of me at this moment, unable to see the smile that creeps across my face.
“What about you?” I ask him.
“I don’t really know,” he admits, letting out a huff. “I guess it started off as an outlet. My granddad used to ride broncs back in his day, and I grew up saying I wanted to be just like him. My mom hated the idea, but when I got a bit older and started getting into fights in middle school, she finally relented and let me start. I was mad at life, reaching the age where I should’ve had a dad there to teach me about life. I felt like I had to take care of my mom and Kota, and I put so much pressure on myself. Rodeo helped me release that anger in a healthy way. I needed the adrenaline to keep me sane and level-headed. And now? I guess I just fell in love with it. It feels like it’s a part of me.”
“I feel that,” I say. “About it becoming a part of you, I mean. I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t competing. I’ve been looking for jobs since graduating, something in social media marketing, or social media management, anything along those lines. I do really love it, but I don’t feel like my heart is fully in it, not if it ends up taking me away from rodeo. I’ve been trying tofind something part-time so that I can still compete on weekends, but everything I’m finding would require too many hours. I think that’s the main thing holding me back.”
I’m surprised by how open I’m able to be with him. I hadn’t told anybody any of this, and a part of me still hadn’t admitted it to myself until now. Maybe it was the fact that we were walking through the woods and I could get murdered at any moment, or maybe it was because I felt like Weston would be the one person to not judge me.
Maybe it was because he already had such a low opinion of me, that I didn’t think there was much else I could say or do to make him think even less of me. Therefore, I felt liberated, in a weird kind of way that somehow made sense in my head.
He seemed lost in thought for a moment, staying silent for long enough that I thought the conversation was over before he finally spoke again.
“What if you took over social media for the ranch?”
“What?”
“You remember how I told you about the guest ranch? We all have roles around here to keep the business going, but none of us know the first thing about marketing or running a social media page. You could work on it when you’re home during the week, and you wouldn’t have to work weekends since we would all be at rodeos anyways.”
I think it through, excitement blooming in my chest.
