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Then I was suddenly twirled around, and there was nothing but a fiddle and a guitar playing as we began country swing dancing. Something I’d not done in a long time. Something that I’d only ever done with my dad, I was now doing with Cassidy. He threw me around like I was nothing, and my throat was hoarse from the laughter by the time we finished.
Hand in hand, we disappeared from his group of friends, wandering over to the food carts. I ended up with a burger, some fries, and my bum on a cold bleacher seat. Munching happily on the food, my gaze drifted away from the arena where a cowboy had just dallied his rope around his saddle horn, to the cowboy seated next to me.
Serenity was written all over his face as he put the last of his fries in his mouth. And something caught my eye. I followed his line of sight and realized he wasn’t even looking at the competitor in the arena but the horses warming up in a smaller pen along the outskirts of the stadium.
“Whatcha watchin’?” I asked, feeling content, and shoved another bite of hamburger in my mouth.
“That red roan out there in the warm up area. He walks big,” Cassidy mumbled.
“He walks… big?” I furrowed my brows and scanned the horses, finally finding the red roan that was being led by his rider closer to the starting gate of the arena.
“Yeah, look at his hind end. I bet he’s got one heck of a stop on him,” Cassidy continued, almost as if he wasn’t entirely aware that he was speaking.
I studied the horse, but still had no idea what he was talking about. He walked like any other horse. “I’m confused,” I answered.
Cassidy tapped my knee and pointed off to the left. “See that one? Watch the back end. That sorrel mare takes these tiny tiptoe-type steps. She’s got some nice muscling, but getting down in the dirt and a quick sliding stop isn’t going to be as natural to her as it is for the red roan.” I watched the new horse for a moment and then darted my gaze back to the red roan.
“How’d you notice that?” I asked, and he shrugged his shoulders as the next rider trotted into the arena.
“I thought that most people saw those things.” He lifted his brows and glanced at me.
“I wouldn’t have noticed that if you hadn’t said anything.”
“Oh,” he casually dismissed my compliment.
And it hit me. That’s what Rooney saw in Cassidy while training him. That’s what Rooney had picked up on when Cassidy worked with him. Cassidy noticed things, watched for things with horses, that most people wouldn’t unless purposefully seeking them out. Even though I’d started horses, trained them, I wouldn’t have thought to look for that. Ever.
“Why does it seem like Weston has no idea you can train horses like Rooney knows you can?” I blurted out as Cassidy watched the calf roper tie off the steer’s legs.
“We started a couple horses as kids when my dad was still running things. Trial by error, that’s for sure,” he mindlessly began and snatched a fry from my basket. I swatted at his hand as a smile raised the corners of his lips, and he quickly shoved the fry into his mouth. “Anyway, Weston eventually took over and expanded the herd, the business, everything. It was either we keep starting our horses, which takes time and resources, or pay someone else to start them to free up more time for other things on the ranch. That’s what he chose. I haven’t started a horse since before I was an adult, other than my time with Rooney, and I never felt like it was worth mentioning. So, I don’t think Weston, or really anyone in my family knows about it. And it’s not in my job description to say anything about it. I get to put finishing touches on them all the time, like the one I had you ride that hadn’t been roped off before, but that’s ’bout it.”
“Thanks for that, by the way,” I teased, then shoved the rest of my burger in my mouth.
He chuckled. “It was my pleasure. Anyway, I get why he does it this way. It’s more profitable to not raise them from foals since our use for them is to work the cattle that actually bring us money.”
“You know, if you say things like that to an outsider, they’d say that’s cruel.” I bumped my shoulder against him.
“Those horses love their job, and you know we take good care of them,” he answered and dove for another fry. I whacked his hand, my fingers stinging upon contact. “Ow,” he whined.
“Don’t steal my food,” I chided, and he threw an arm around my shoulders.
“Just one?” he begged, pushing his bottom lip out.
“No.”
“Come on, Goldie. Pretty please?” He tipped his head toward me and widened his eyes.
“Your puppy dog face may work on others, but these are really good fries. No.” I pushed against his cheek, and he grinned. Leaning away, he turned his gaze back to the arena where they were setting up for barrels next.
And even though his focus drifted away from me, he left his arm around my shoulders. Biting back the smile that crept across my own face, I stuck another fry in my mouth. I liked this too much. My heart felt light as my stomach danced with the whispers of feathers brushing lightly against the chambers that stirred with longing.
I finished my food while we watched several cowgirls race around the barrels, and he silently slipped the empty red-and-white checkered paper containers from my hands. Stacking them with his, he leaned toward my ear.
“I’m gonna go toss them real fast,” he whispered, his breath washing gently across the side of my face. A shiver danced down my neck and along my spine.
I nodded but didn’t say a word as he stood up and politely excused himself down the aisle. Part of me was ashamed to admit that I totally watched his butt, but the majority of me had nothing to say but a glowing review of the sight. He was in a class all on his own, and there was that entire side of me that still wondered why he liked me. What was it about me that caught his eye?
Brushing the crumbs from my fingers, I made sure my hair was still gently tucked into my waistband, so it wasn’t sitting against the bleachers, and returned to the rodeo at hand. Music pumped in the background of the cheering erupting from the stadium. Horses snorted, hooves sprayed sand up behind them as each rider turned their horse around the barrels, chasing a trophy that even Cassidy had once sought.
