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“Yeah, you told us that, but we don’t believe you,” Finn said.
“I mean it. I’m done.”
The guys exchanged glances, and my jaw clenched.
I had been in an on-and-off relationship with Kinsley Jackson for the last two years, but things had gotten complicated. We’d had a falling out the last time we were together, and I knew I hadn’t handled it well. But as much as I cared for her, I couldn’t help but think we were better off apart.
Now, with the new rodeo season starting, our paths would cross again. Our schedules would align for the next few months as we both traveled the same circuit. A part of me wished I could go south to compete and avoid the inevitable confrontation, but I knew I couldn’t afford to be on my own. I needed the guys to make this work, to have any shot at making a living doing what I loved, and rodeo was all I knew how to do.
I’d just have to deal with Kinsley, be civil and professional, even if my heart felt anything but.
We entered the barn where the horses were stabled. I stopped in front of Drifter’s stall, and he gave me a soft nicker.
“Hey, bud, how are you doing?”
I’d had Drifter since the day he was born. He was a big bay with a half moon crescent on his forehead and bred on my family’s ranch. Best damn horse I’d ever ridden. I didn’t have a ranch or a family anymore, but at least I still had him. He was the only family I needed—well, he and the guys.
I let myself in the stall and ran my hand down each of his legs; the trip had been long, and he had gone from the trailer straight to standing in a stall. His back legs felt a bit puffy. What I wouldn’t give for a grassy pasture to turn him out in. I preferred him to live outside as much as possible, so he could keep himself moving, but that was difficult on the road.
“Let’s go for a walk, buddy.” I grabbed his halter from the hook and slipped it on over his ears.
He tossed his head a few times and pulled me towards the door of the stall, eager to be let out.
“He okay?” Finn came down the aisle towards me with a wheelbarrow and pitchfork.
“Yeah, he’s fine. Needs to move and stretch his legs a bit.”
Finn’s scrutinising gaze wandered over my horse. “Are you su—”
“He’s fine,” I snapped and walked past him out the door.
Drifter wasn’t just my horse; he was my livelihood. I made my living off his back, and if he wasn’t okay, I was out of the rodeo. I couldn’t afford to buy another horse, not with the tight margins we operated on.
There was a cool spring breeze, but the sun was trying hard to warm things up. I walked Drifter around for the better part of an hour, then found a patch of grass he approved of to let him graze–apparently, I wasn’t the best judge of grass. While he grabbed mouthfuls, I lay down, letting his lead rope drop beside me—he wasn’t going anywhere. I put my cowboy hat over my face, to block the sun from my eyes, but let it saturate the rest of me.
My mind was on my ride tomorrow.
Finn and I competed in team roping. It was a speed event where a steer got released from a chute, with us cowboys on either side. We raced after it, the header—Finn—roped the horns, and the heeler—I—roped the heels. The fastest time won.
There was a time where everyone touted us as the ones to beat and we were on our way to the big money. However, in the last couple of years, we’d hit a dry spell, and there didn’t seem to be any rain in sight. If we couldn’t start winning, I would have no choice but to quit. If I quit rodeo, I had nowhere to go.
I thought of the ranch. What I wouldn’t give to have it back, call it mine, and have something to show for myself.
A winning streak, a sponsorship—those would turn things around for me. But I had to earn them on my own. I wouldn’t take handouts because of whom I was dating. I wouldn’t become Cal Jackson’s puppet or Kinsley’s project.
Rodeo was my life, my passion, and I’d worked too hard to get to where I was to let someone else call the shots. I needed to know that every win, every dollar I earned, was because of my own sweat and skills, not because of whom I knew or was sleeping with.
It was a matter of pride, sure, but it was more than that. It was about integrity, about being true to myself and the code I lived by. I’d seen too many guys get chewed up and spit out by this life, losing themselves. I wouldn’t let that happen to me; I wouldn’t compromise who I was for a quick buck or a moment of glory.
If I was going to make it, it would be on my own terms. I’d stand or fall by my own merits, and I’d do it with my head held high. That’s just who I was, and no amount of money or fame could change that.
God, why did Kinsley have to be at this rodeo? She was nothing but a distraction—a beautiful, intoxicating distraction that turned my world upside down. I didn’t want to admit to anyone that I missed her, but I did.
Warm breath hit my face. I lifted my hat and peered over at Drifter grazing right beside me.
“What do you think, boy? Is this our year? You and me; no girls allowed.”
He gave a huff and a sneeze, spraying me with horse snot.
