Page 16 of The Wildest Ride

It was bad enough she was compact and muscular everywhere a woman ought to be soft and round—she didn’t need a hat to make her look any more like an underage male.

She didn’t wear jewelry or makeup for practical reasons: makeup could drip into your eyes, and jewelry could get ripped out. Her only accessory was her rope, but that was fine. The vest was loud enough.

She left her riding gear in the car. Even at a “rodeo like no other” one typically didn’t need to be in costume at the registration table.

The noise level increased the closer to the entrance she got, but she became a part of it. Rodeo was like riding a bike, something you never forgot—a symphony made up of the unintelligible stream of intercom announcements, the staccato bursts of words you wouldn’t want your grandma to hear you say, clinking spurs, spit hitting solid ground, and bravado—and all of it punctuated by the muffled stampede of a thousand cowboy boots pounding dirt and pavement.

It could have been the sound of her own heartbeat.

Lil closed her eyes, a feral grin spreading across her face. She breathed deep. It was good to be home.

A reporter tapped her shoulder, killing the moment.

“You’re a contestant?” the woman shouted to be heard over the blare. She had a Houston 5 badge on, salon blond hair, and shrewd brown eyes. “You look young. What’s your story? Why are you competing tonight? You think you’ll make it?” The woman fired questions faster than Lil could blink while her cameraman filmed.

The woman was at least a head taller than Lil, but as Lil was five-foot-two, most adults were.

Lil opened her mouth to reply. “I—”

“You getting this, Don? The kid’s eighteen if he’s a day.”

Don grunted his confirmation as Lil started to correct the woman. Before any sound came out, though, the woman returned to the camera with, “We’re outside the arena at the PBRA Closed Circuit rodeo. Dubbed the first-everreality rodeo show,it’s poised to change the way the world rodeos! Tonight, hundreds of young hopefuls try out for their opportunity to travel with the Closed Circuit for the next month in a tournament-style rough stock rodeo—as well as their shot at winning one million dollars! We’ve got one such hopeful with us now. Tell us, young man, what’s your name, and how do you think you’ll do out there tonight?”

The woman shoved the mic in front of Lil’s mouth, and Lil found herself replying without thinking, “Lil, and I’m just looking to get a good ride out there tonight.”

The mic zipped back to the reporter’s very red lips, and Lil was instantly forgotten as the woman wrapped her segment.

Free once more to make her way to registration, Lil gave a nod to the cameraman and headed off. She could worry about correcting people if she made it into the competition. If not, it wouldn’t matter if people thought she was a young man.

She made it another six feet before another woman with a camera caught her. This one was shorter, her brown hair cut into a sharp chin-length bob. She wore thick black-framed glasses and a bright green PBRA Closed Circuit Staff T-shirt. Holding her own camera, she had the aura of an intern.

Lil spotted a WTF bracelet, and her eyes narrowed.A social media intern.

“Hi there,” the girl chirped brightly. “You look like you’re trying out? I’m getting quick bios and shots of the cowboys trying out tonight. Mind if I take a few minutes?” she asked.

Lil shook her head. “No...”

The young woman smiled. “Great! First off, where’re ya coming from?”

Lil answered, “Muskogee.”

The intern smiled an icebreaker kind of smile and said, “A real live Okie from Muskogee!”

Lil returned the smile like she hadn’t heard that line at every rodeo she’d ever been to in her life and said, “That’s right.”

“One of the unique features of the Closed Circuit is its open qualifier. That means even complete novices can try out.” The young woman eyed her. “Have you ever competed in a major PBRA event before?”

Lil heaved a mental sigh at the girl’s odd specificity, but her smile didn’t waver. “I have not. I was a junior champion and competed professionally in the Indian rodeo circuit...” She regretted the words before they were out but couldn’t take them back. It was the worst thing she could have said. She looked like she was trying to prove something. Her granddad had always said silence was the best response. Your words couldn’t make a fool of you if you didn’t say them.

The interviewer narrowed her eyes but retained her cheerful expression. “How old are you?”

So much for not looking like a kid trying to sit at the grown-up table.

Face carefully open, Lil said, “Twenty-seven.”

As she spoke, however, a commotion erupted in the parking lot when a lifted white-and-chrome F450 pulled up and parked alongside the red curb blaring Hank Williams Jr. loud enough to drown out both the country coming from the stadium speakers and the tailgaters in the parking lot.

The vanity plates read RDO PRO1 and the windows were tinted.

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