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“Damn, boys, what’re we doing to celebrate that nice, fat payday?” Grady slapped me on the back, grinning.
“Going to bed.” I led Gambler into his stall.
“You’re a good friend, but no thanks, buddy,” Grady replied.
Rolling my eyes, I snagged a flake of hay from a nearby bale and chucked it at his face. “Here, make yourself useful for once.”
He batted the clinging bits of hay off him, still grinning as he tossed the flake into Gambler’s stall. I followed it up with a couple more.
“Hey, we should get signed up for the next string of rodeos now that we’re back in the running,” Finn said from the next stall.
I paused. “I should probably check with Kinsley first, make sure she’s good with me riding Gambler for a while longer.”
Finn shot me an exasperated look, already anticipating the argument. “She already said it was fine. You’re overthinking again.”
He was right, but it didn’t change the fact that this wasn’t my horse we were making plans with. What was our timeline on this? I couldn’t ride him forever. Kinsley and I should have some sort of agreement. Maybe I could give her a cut of the winnings. This wasn’t just any horse; this was her horse, her parents’ cold, hard cash underfoot every time I swung a leg over that saddle.
“Let’s go get those entries squared away.” Finn drew me from my thoughts. “First round’s on us after that win.”
Grady perked up like a dog catching a whiff of fresh steak. “Well, now you’re talking! Let the meal train start rolling!”
“Yeah, you just keep riding our coattails, you bum,” I shot back, shoving his shoulder as we made our way out of the barn.
“Hey, I’ll be first in line kissing both your boot heels if you start raking in the real dough.”
Our laughter and trash talk carried across the dusty parking lot as we wove between the maze of trailers and rigs towards my truck.
Despite myself, I found my gaze scanning the crowd, searching unconsciously for any glimpse of Kinsley. But she was nowhere to be found, slipping through my grasp as easily as smoke between my fingers.
“Dude, I’m starving.” Grady groaned as we finally reached the truck. “Can we hit a buffet or something? I just want to eat for, like, five hours straight.”
“Best idea you’ve ever had,” I said, my stomach grumbling.
Chapter 21
I Grew Up On Farm - The Reklaws
Kinsley
“Any persistent symptoms?” The doctor checked my eyes.
The paper on the exam table crinkled beneath me as I shifted and tried to keep my eyes open. “Nope,” I answered. “Nothing for almost three weeks now.”
Wyatt stood at the other end of the room, arms crossed over his chest, scrutinizing every move the doctor made. He had insisted on coming with me to hear from the doctor himself that I was fine.
“Well, everything looks good. I don’t see why you can’t start riding again, as long as you’re careful.”
“Oh, I will be!”
“You’re sure, Doc? You don’t think a couple more weeks—” Wyatt began.
I interrupted. “Ignore him.”
The doctor chuckled and made a note on my chart. “I promise you everything checks out. I wouldn’t give her the okay to ride if I didn’t think it was safe,” the doctor assured Wyatt. “My daughter would kill me if I did; she’s a big fan of yours and wants to be a barrel racer too.”
“Bring her to a rodeo sometime soon and come say hi!” I offered.
“I’ll do that. Good luck to both of you and come back if you have any concerns.” He smiled as he left the room.
