Page 46 of Fool for You
I inhaled. Neither did I. Kelly Fugal already had my mother’s attention; she didn’t need Wyatt’s as well. But then my mother said—
“She said you used to date?”
My head flipped to Wyatt, probably a lot faster than it should have. His gaze caught mine, a single eyebrow raising to his forehead. He cleared his throat.
“We went on a few dates,” Wyatt answered, rolling his shoulders as his body shifted back towards me. “It wasn’t meant to be, obviously. She’s sweet, though. Will you tell her I say hi?”
“Of course.” My mom smiled.
Wyatt gave her a nod. “Quinn, I’ll get Charming unsaddled and in the trailer for you.” Wyatt pulled the reins from me, and I reluctantly let him, his eyes meeting mine for the briefest moment.
If I could’ve screamed at him to stay, I would’ve, but all I did was close off, my arms folding across my chest as he took a few steps away from me.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Compton.” His attention turned to me. “See you at the trailer.”
I nodded back to him, not saying a word.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hartwell,” Mom called after Wyatt, who simply turned and gave her another smile.
Once he was out of earshot, she took a step closer to me. “A Hartwell,” she whispered. “Quinn, you didn’t tell me you were traveling with a Hartwell. I knew they lived in Alpine Crest—”
“Ridge, Mom. Alpine Ridge.” I corrected her. She didn’t even take notice.
“But I had no idea you were close with them. This could help you. And are you dating him? Honey, that’s—”
“The farthest thing from the truth.” I took a step back from her. “Wyatt is just…” I paused. What was Wyatt exactly? My horse’s assistant? A rodeo hand? I rolled my shoulders and picked the easiest answer. “He’s a friend.”
“Oh, honey.” She stood up straight. “The way he was eyeing you, you two are more than friends. Even mentioning Kelly didn’t turn his eyes away from you. That’s a good thing; he could help you—”
“Help me what, Mom?” I snapped, knowing exactly what she was going to say.
He’s a Hartwell. He’s well known in rodeo. Was he that well known to be able to have sway with the judges? Changing times wasn't common, but it did happen. She saw him only as a way to help me climb the ranks, just by being his girlfriend.
“I don’t need help. In any way. He came to take care of the horses so I could focus on riding,” I bit out. “I’m doing this on my own.”
Her lips pursed as she stepped away, the almost joyful expression on her face turning back into that unreadable emotion—that time mixed with dissatisfaction. I won tonight. Scored the best I had all weekend, and the only thing she caredabout was my social standing. Who I was dating. How I was getting to the top of the leaderboards. It didn’t even phase her that I did all of that, that I got myself there. I trained. I worked. I pushed. I did whatever it took. And she didn’t care in the slightest.
I bit the inside of my lip to stop myself from saying anything more.
“Apparently,” she finally began, breaking the silence, “you can’t. He’s here to help you, right? I’m assuming because you’re still healing from that injury last year? You can’t do everything because you’re slower? He’s unsaddling your horse, getting him in the trailer, and he’s probably going to go collect your check. Can’t you see that you aren’t doing this on your own? You’re keeping him from his career just because you are too stubborn to admit defeat and stop while you’re ahead.”
I flinched. I? Was keeping…him…from his career?
“Mom, I…” I choked. “I have to go.”
“Oh, come now, Quinn…” She dropped her arms to her side, her bracelets jingling against her jeans.
But I didn’t stay. I blocked out her voice and walked away. She shouted my name a few times, but I held my shoulders as high as I could and made my way through the crowd to my trailer. I wanted out of there. I wanted to crawl under the covers again and forget this entire encounter had happened. I won tonight. That’s all I needed to focus on.
But the only thing running through my head as I stepped closer and closer to my truck was the fact that she was more interested in the man by my side than my own accomplishments. The only way I would get anywhere was if Wyatt helped…no…not just Wyatt—a Hartwell.
Nothing I did was good enough, was it?
Not for her, at least…
I climbed into the driver’s seat of my truck and turned the engine over. I could feel Wyatt’s eyes on me from the passenger seat, the concern that flooded him basically palpable. I swallowed and met his gaze.
And as much as I hated to admit it, I saw Miss Rodeo Montana. Did he want to be with her right now?
