AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’re going to take over? Full-time, with the boarding, lessons, and everything that goes with it?” I tried to picture Finn, with his love for independence, trading it all for day-to-day boarding barn management and teaching kids to ride.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on something in the distance and deliberately avoiding mine.
“Is that really what you want?” I probed deeper.
Finn’s passion for rodeo wasn’t something easily set aside. It was in his blood, the same as it was in mine.
“All I know is that I don’t want to lose the farm.”
That, at least, I understood. The day my old man sold our ranch was the worst day of my life. I thought it would always be there, that it would be mine one day, but my dad had pulled the rug out from under me and, in a flash, it was all gone.
“Alright,” I said, “I guess we better make this year count.”
Our last year together riding as a team. I couldn’t imagine doing this without Finn. Would I even try? Honestly, I didn’t know if Drifter and I had much left to give. What did my future look like without rodeo? Thinking about it was like staring into a black hole. I had a lot to figure out.
Finn nodded. “We make it count,” he echoed.
Chapter 5
The Ride - Chris LeDoux
Wyatt
Finn and I strolled through the rodeo grounds, soaking up the surroundings we knew so well. We were in our element, a world that made sense when everything else was upside down.
Familiar gravelly voices caught my attention, drifting over from a worn wooden picnic table in a patch of shade. “Hey there, Collins! Winter! Get yer asses over here!”
Finn shot me a sidelong glance, and I shrugged. When the old-timers called, you answered. These faded cowboys might be retired, but they were walking encyclopedias in rodeo history and life on the circuit.
As we approached, a wave of nostalgia washed over me at the sight of their weathered faces carved with wrinkles earned from decades under the relentless prairie sun. These men had been bull riders, bronc riders, ropers, and even clowns back in their day. Now, they just lingered at the rodeos, chewing tobacco and swapping tales that got more embellished every year.
I imagined Finn and me riding until we physically couldn’t anymore and then being the ones sitting here, reliving the good old days over and over. It was not an idea that excited me. I wanted more than that. A home. A family.
I pushed the thought out of my mind.
“Have a seat, boys,” Big Jim rasped, patting the bench beside him. Despite his advanced age, a lively spark still danced in his pale blue eyes.
We slid onto the bench, and I could already feel the conversation sliding in a direction I wanted to avoid, as it always did with this crowd. Nothing was off limits or too personal for these guys.
“Seen your daddy lately, Wyatt?” Big Jim asked, his face crinkling like an old road map.
The old-timers were blunt and didn’t beat around the bush. They asked what they wanted to ask, oblivious to anyone’s feelings.
“No, sir. Jake... He’s been gone a while.” I tried to keep my voice steady. Dragging up memories of Jake Collins was like ripping off a scab before the wound healed.
“Damn shame, that.” Big Jim shook his head with genuine regret. “Your father was one hell of a cowboy. Best damn roper I ever saw until—”
“Until he took up drinking and gambling,” another cowboy chimed in. “We all like our whiskey, but ya got to know when to draw the line. Sad to see a good man fall like that.”
A chorus of solemn nods and murmurs of agreement rippled through the gathered cowboys.
Finn gave me a sympathetic smile.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “He was good, once.” My jaw clenched as a knot formed in my gut.
“Married a city girl, didn’t he? That’s where he went wrong, I tell ya,” another man added, his voice tinged with a knowing sadness. “Couldn’t handle the ranch life. Took off and left him to his vices.”
I dropped my gaze, unable to meet their eyes as flashes of memories assaulted me—the sound of my mother’s suitcases thumping down the stairs as she fled in the night when I was just a kid, then Jake stumbling home late, reeking of cheap whiskey and even cheaper perfumes.
