Page 43 of Mountain Time
Not only was I right about the cowboy hat—the man could make a vegan crave beef—but it was 5.1 seconds, and he waslateleaving the box? My dad will never let me live this down, and I’m terrified of what three questions Knox will ask. Maybe he’ll stick to basic stuff like “When’s your birthday?” and “What’s your favorite food?”
I audibly groan and lean back in my saddle. It definitely won’t be questions like those.
“It was a lucky loop; we’d beat them nine out of ten times,” Carson says next to me scratching the days-old scruff on his face.
“I didn’t need to beat him nine times. I needed to beat himthistime. We may have had a small bet,” I admit. I’m sure the look on my face isn’t very sportsmanlike. I hate losing, and with the bet, this was the last one I wanted to lose.
Carson’s eyebrows raise. “Care to share what that was?”
“It’s not a big deal. I just have to answer three questions honestly.”
His look of surprise turns to concern. “I’ve seen you two together . . . you sure you know what you’re doing there?”
“Nope, not at all.” I say honestly, right as Dad and Knox ride back up to us.
“Well Bug, looks like the old man and a bull rider just showed you two how it’s done.” He lets out a gruff chuckle, clearly proud of himself.
“Not to toot my own horn but,toot toot!” Knox says, with a smile on his face as he makes a fist pumping action like he’s an actual train conductor.
I roll my eyes, fighting my own grin. Bull riders and the one thing they never lack: confidence. That, or they’re just plain cocky.
“That was the luckiest loop I’ve ever seen.”
“Nah, sweetheart, I’m just that good.”
We watch the rest of the roping before heading back to the trailer to tie the horses up. We ended up third and fourth overall, so at least Knox can’t brag about winning the whole thing.
After we get the horses unsaddled, and tack put away, we make our way back to the arena to watch Chet calf rope. Carson splits off to see if he needs help at the roping chute. Right before Dad, Knox, and I reach the grandstands, a man and three little boys approach us.
“Are you Knox Ward, the bull rider?” one of the little boys asks. None of them can be older than ten. All three are wearing long-sleeved pearl snap shirts, with jeans, boots and spurs. It’s adorable.
Knox puts his hands on his knees to bend down and look him in the eye. “Yeah, little man. That’s me.”
“Can we get an autograph and a picture?” another boy asks, holding up a permanent marker and grinning ear to ear, one front tooth missing.
“You bet.” Knox chats with them, answering their questions, asking what their names are while he signs their t-shirts and one of their straw cowboy hats. “Are you boys going to be bull riders?” he asks them.
“Yes sir, I’m going to be a world champ.”
“No way, I am.”
“Nuh-uh, I’ll beat both of you.”
The three start squabbling and Knox chuckles. “Hey boys, you’re not in competition with each other, you’re in competition with the bull and that eight-second clock. Stay focused on how you’re going to get that bull rode. Don’t worry about trying to beat anyone, because you won’t win anything if you don’t ride your bulls.”
The three boys look up at him, nodding their heads and replying with“Yes sir.”Then he gets on one knee and the dad takes a picture of them.
“Thank you for doing that. You just made their day.” The dad shakes Knox’s hand.
“No problem,” Knox says, smiling at the little cowboys.
He’s good with kids.Of coursehe’s good with kids. I know he has a nephew, but that doesn’t mean he’s good with kids or even likes them. But clearly he does. He isn’t faking interest in his conversation or trying to sign autographs quickly and leave.
“How do we get as good as you, Mr. Ward?” the one with the missing tooth asks.
“You practice every day, even when you don’t want to, and you make it your number one priority. Hard work always trumps talent that doesn’t work hard.”
The boy looks up at the dad. “Can we practice when we get home?”
