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Rhett’s gaze lingered on me for a moment as if he sensed my inner turmoil, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he nodded towards the arena. “Well, I better get back to work. I have to be in the arena for the bronc riding.”
I turned to Finn. “Let’s go check on the horses, make sure they’re ready for tomorrow.”
Finn nodded, and we made our way towards the stables. The scent of hay and horse sweat filled my nostrils, grounding me in the moment. This was what I lived for—the thrill of the ride, the rush of the competition.
As I ran my hand along Drifter’s flank, feeling the power and strength beneath his coat, I couldn’t shake the nagging fear that I wasn’t good enough anymore. That maybe my best days were behind me, and all that lay ahead was a slow, painful decline.
No, I thought, clenching my jaw. I can do this. I have to do this.
I had to believe that tomorrow would be different and I would turn things around. Because if I didn’t, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep going, keep chasing this dream that slipped further away with each passing day.
Chapter 6
If I Was a Cowboy - Miranda Lambert
Kinsley
Gambler was on edge. I sat hard in the saddle, gripping the reins until my knuckles turned white. I tried to walk him to the arena for our run, but he was bouncing around, pleading to be let loose. As we neared the arena, his agitation worsened.
A cowboy strode over and grabbed a rein, helping me steady him.
“Hey, Rhett,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“Kinsley.” Rhett tipped his hat, but his focus never left Gambler.
“What brings you here?” My left leg pressed against Gambler to prevent him from running Rhett over.
“Just helping out,” he said, his voice steady.
“He didn’t send you, did he?” A hint of suspicion entered my voice.
“I can’t say I know what you’re talking about,” Rhett replied, but I caught a faint smile under his cowboy hat.
“Then I guess I owe you one, handsome.” I winked at him as he guided us to the starting position.
“You sure about this?” He looked from Gambler to the arena.
“As sure as I’ll ever be.” I forced a confident smile onto my face despite the nerves twisting my stomach into knots.
I was never nervous before a ride. With Cher, I always knew what to expect.
We took our place in the long chute that led to the arena. I heard the announcer call my name over the booming loudspeaker, the sound echoing through the packed venue. I nodded to Rhett, signaling for him to release his grip on Gambler’s bridle.
With the slightest nudge of my boot, Gambler sprang into motion, his powerful muscles propelling us towards the first barrel with a burst of speed that took my breath away. The wind whipped through my hair, and the adrenaline pumped through my veins as we raced across the arena. As we approached the barrel, I realized Gambler was shooting past it, losing those precious milliseconds that could make all the difference between victory and defeat in barrel racing.
“Damn it,” I cursed under my breath, quickly correcting our path with a squeeze of my inside leg but slowing in the process.
Gambler responded, running to and pivoting around the second barrel with agility and precision. We flew towards the third barrel, determination burning in both of us to make up for lost time. Gambler’s muscles strained beneath me as he gave it his all, but it would not be enough. As we crossed the finish line, I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in my bones that our time was too slow.
A wave of disappointment and frustration replaced the rush of the ride. We could do better than this, and the thought of letting down my family, especially my dad, was almost too much to bear. I pictured the inevitable photos that would surface later—my scowling face broadcast across rodeo news sites and social media. The frustration threatened to boil over, but I fought to compose myself as we made our way out of the arena, not wanting to show even a hint of weakness in front of the crowd. I could feel all the critical eyes on me and hear the whispers.
There would be plenty of time later to analyse what had gone wrong and how I could improve for the next competition. For now, I had to hold my head high despite the bitter taste of failure on my tongue.
I pulled Gambler up as I checked our time. It was worse than I’d thought.
“It’s the first run. You’ll do better tomorrow.” Rhett came up beside me and took Gambler’s reins as I dismounted.
“I lost it from the start,” I admitted, deflated.
