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An ache settled deep in my chest. Cher shifted beneath me as if sensing my unease.
I leaned forward, burying my face in her mane to hide the tears that threatened to spill over. “I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I, girl?”
I pulled back from Cher’s mane, wiping at my damp cheeks with the back of my hand. What was I thinking? How could I hand over Gambler like that? He was my horse, my dream.
Finn shot me a subtle wink over his shoulder, letting me know he was in on the scheme to get Wyatt roping again.
I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d thought this through, though. Wyatt wasn’t an idiot. He was bound to figure out eventually that Finn and I had cooked this whole thing up behind his back. I imagined the stormy look that would cloud his face when he realized we’d manipulated him, even if our intentions were good. That crease would appear between his brows, and his jaw would tighten in that way that meant he was fighting to keep his emotions in check.
He hated feeling out of control or like decisions were being made for him. It went against every fibre of his being. I knew that better than anyone after our years of being ... well, whatever we were. He would see this as me overstepping again, trying to control his life.
It wasn’t like that at all, but I understood why he might view it that way, given our history. I was trying to give him a new lease on the rodeo life he loved so much, a chance to rekindle that passion I saw burning in his eyes when he rode Gambler.
Then again, maybe I was getting ahead of myself. Maybe Wyatt would surprise me and be grateful for the opportunity, not getting bogged down in questioning the intentions behind it all. Maybe he’d accept this gift with grace instead of second-guessing every motive.
I knew that was just wishful thinking. I could only hope the risk would be worth it.
I sighed, resting my forehead against Cher’s neck as I tried to push those doubts aside. Only time would tell how Wyatt would react when the truth came out. For now, I had to focus on being supportive, on not letting my selfish desires get in the way of his potential for happiness.
If giving up my prized horse and risking my own rodeo dreams for a little while was what it took, well ... I’d have to woman up and deal with it. Wyatt’s smile was worth that and more.
Chapter 20
Cowboys and Plowboys - Jon Pardi & Luke Bryan
Wyatt
The coppery tang of dust and horse sweat permeated the air as I swung the rope in tight loops, letting the weight and rhythm steady my newfound nerves. This old, small-town arena might have been a far cry from the big pro circuits, but the dry Alberta air still thrummed with an edge of anticipation before a competition, and it was the perfect rodeo to dip my boots back into.
“Easy, big guy.” I patted Gambler’s thick neck, feeling the coiled power vibrating through his muscular body as he danced beneath me.
Despite our week of hard prep work, those first-run jitters still had my heart hammering in my chest.
Finn rode up on Ghost, the gelding’s smoky coat gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat.
A wave of nostalgia washed over me, taking me back to all the times we’d geared up together for a competition. It felt like coming home after a long stint on the road, and it hadn’t even been that long.
“Just like old times, eh?” Finn remarked with a grin.
I allowed myself a rare full-blown smile as I nodded. “Good to be back.”
My brief moment of contented ease was interrupted as another rider approached, giving Gambler an appraising look.
“Hell of a nice horse you got there.” He tipped his hat. “New mount?”
I shifted in the saddle, avoiding his eyes. “Nah, just riding him for now.”
The cowboy’s expression shifted as understanding dawned. Studying Gambler more intently, he asked, “Wait a minute, ain’t that Kinsley Jackson’s horse? Mr. Lucky Gambler?”
My jaw clenched hard, and I forced out a clipped, “That’s right.”
He left it hanging there. I could practically hear the unspoken thoughts whirring through his head: How’d a busted-ass cowboy like you score a ride on a horse like that? Must be nice having a rich rodeo princess girlfriend to buy your way onto a top-dollar mount.
“We’re up next.” Finn’s voice sliced through the uncomfortable silence, mercifully redirecting my attention.
I gave Gambler an extra pat as we headed toward the boxes, forcing aside the gnawing twist of unease. No point dwelling on what that jackass—or anyone else—might assume about my situation. I was just here to ride, same as always.
As we settled in on either side of the chute, my and Gambler’s focus resharpening. Gambler eyed the steer through the bars and went still, poised and ready.
