Page 10 of Rodeo Rivals
At this, Seth laughed loudly. “Not in the slightest. Just thought it was interesting, that was all.”
Facing forward, Wyatt continued his run. A woman competing against men in saddle bronc riding? That was insane. It was an intense sport. Barrel racing and breakaway roping, sure. Those events were perfect for them, but rough stock? No way. That was far too dangerous for them. How did any of them even qualify?
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8
McKayla
Nothing made someone appreciate water pressure like being on the road as much as McKayla found herself. The water in her camper dribbled. So, showering in there wasn’t impossible. It just wasn’t ideal. Thankfully, there were national gym chains that had locations at nearly every stop on the rodeo tour. Not only was she able to get her workouts in to keep her in tip-top shape, but the showers were a godsend.
With her towel around her shoulders, she rubbed it into her hair as she walked out of the women’s locker room. Her muscles were loose, and her stomach rumbled. She should get some breakfast before she headed over to the arena to meet the horse she’d ride tonight.
There was nothing like entering an arena. The sound of the crowd roaring, the lights flashing—hell, she even liked the smell. Horseshit was an acquired taste. Not that she’d wear it as a perfume or anything, but it always invigorated her. Tonight, she’d compete as a card-carrying member of the PRCA for the first time. This was a dream come true. The only way to make it better would be for her to run into Kaila Mussell.
McKayla let out a breath and smiled. Kaila Mussell hadn’t taken part in an event since 2024. So, the likelihood they’d cross paths was slim to none. A woman could dream, though.
A familiar laugh caught her ear, and she turned toward the sound. Stopping in her tracks, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Standing at the post-workout smoothie bar was Wyatt, laughing with none other than Seth Allen, the current top of the PRCA leaderboard. This only confirmed her suspicion that he was a fan of the rodeo.
Jesus Christ.
Ducking, even though he wasn’t looking in her direction, McKayla lifted her hand to shield her face. She had to get out of there. Speed walking, she beelined for the exit. They’d made it clear that they wouldn’t be seeing each other again. It was one and done. Not that running into him again guaranteed that they’d bang, but she didn’t want to tempt fate. Thankfully, she’d be out of town soon enough.
Not that McKayla was superstitious. She was merely cautious. Which was why she slid her well-worn boot-cut Levi jeans up her legs. Every time she had won, she wore these jeans. For her debut, she wasn’t taking chances.
After tucking her aqua long-sleeve button-down shirt into her jeans, she tapped each sponsorship patch to ensure they were securely fastened. With a nod, she slid the button through the hole and zipped up her fly.
One foot and then the other dipped into her mahogany and turquoise arena collection riding boots with the spurs attached. Checking the integrity of the straps, she nodded. They were secure. There was no way they’d come loose.
Standing, she took a deep breath and fastened the belt of her heavy leather chaps with the ornate seven-pointed star and oak adorning her hip. Once she got everything buckled in place and tied off, she placed two of her fingers on the symbol. She closed her eyes, hoping to channel some of the good energy out into the world.
Satisfied, she reached for the tan and brown riding vest with the larger than average, but still within regulations, arm areas that allowed for her to have the most arm extension possible. Turning it over, she slapped her back number on. With seven safety pins in her mouth, she wrinkled it slightly to ensure itwould flow with her body. Meticulously, McKayla pinned that number to her vest so it would sit between her shoulder blades and the judges could see it while she rode.
Each task in her pre-competition ritual brought her closer to the chute. It made the fact that she’d made it to the PRCA that much more real. Tonight would be epic.
Head high, she slid her vest on. With her hair in twin French braids, she reached for her tan cowboy hat and placed it on her head. She was ready. Time to go to the arena and endure the all-boys club that was the chute where she would meet Lady Jane, the bucking mare who would decide her fate.
Exiting her truck bed camper, she headed straight for the rear of her cab and opened the door. She grabbed her duffel bag, unzipped it, and triple-checked that she had all the essentials. Gloves, rosin, mouth guard, first aid kit, and everything else was securely inside. She slipped it over her shoulder and moved on to her saddle.
This thing had been with her for years—through trials, tribulations, celebrations, and failures. Today would be the first time that, when she strapped it to Lady Jane, she would ride it as a card-carrying PRCA rider. She had made it.
Stirrups were secure. The straps were in decent condition. They would hold. Broken in. Nothing too loose. It would hold. Cinch and latigo were good to go.
Blowing out a breath, she slung her saddle over her opposite shoulder and closed the door. She locked up and made her way toward the arena. Her day had come. This was the moment she had dreamed about. She was officially the second woman to step into the arena and compete in a PRCA rodeo.
Next, she would be the first to win it all.
For now, she’d focus on this one event. She needed to rank as high as possible and move on to the next event. There was plenty of season left for her to make a name for herself .Today, everyone in Mesquite, Texas, or at least those who were attending the rodeo, would know her name.
McKayla Ghigau from Dawson Springs, Kentucky.
Nothing could stop her. She was a force to be reckoned with. She had made it farther than most who had come before, and she would go farther than they’d ever dreamed. The rodeo world was about to get shaken to the core.
She was here for it. It would be hard, but it was time to make history. Kaila Mussell was the first, but McKayla Ghigau would be the best. Her time was now.
9
Wyatt
