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CHAPTER ONE
Let me tell ya, my world spins fast and wild like a bronc at its first rodeo. The pounding hooves, the screams of adrenaline-pumped spectators, and the intoxicating scent of dust and sweat, all that's my lifeblood. And right now, I'm huddled on the fringes of the arena, barrel racing bib hitched tight to my chaps, ready to charge into the heart of this whirlwind.
Everywhere, cowboys strut their stuff, lost in their world of bull-riding, roping, broncs, and steer wrestling. Yet, despite the allure of buckles and boots, no cowboy has ever set my heart on fire. I've tangled with more than a few, but the thrill fades as fast as a tumbleweed in the Texas wind. Maybe it's the stubborn streak in me, the dream to be the woman behind a rodeo champ's sweet smiles.
I scan the crowd, feel their excitement charging the air, the buzz that whispers of hard rides and harder falls. The scene thrills me, feeds my soul, yet leaves me yearning for something deeper. It's the contradiction that is me – a barrel racer craving stability. Isn't it the wildest oxymoron?
My journal tucked between the folds of my leather duffle, I spill my thoughts onto the paper. Romantic idealism – that’s what I diagnose myself with. A chronic case, incurable, full of longing for the kind of love that fills country songs. The kind that's brave, that's tough, that's more intoxicating than the finest bourbon.
An anxious chuckle slips out as I tuck the journal back in. Trust me, I've got a sense of humor about my starry-eyed syndrome. I need it when reality is often splintered into the heartaches of breakups and the bitter truths of trauma. You see, underneath my aspirations of rodeo championships and enduring love, lurks the hard edge of my past.
Abandonment, heartbreak, these aren't strangers to me. They've shaped me, made me stronger, and given me a solid set of walls. Yet, here I am, amidst the dirt and chaos, dreaming of love that will break down these walls.
And with every cowboy I meet, every flirty smile exchanged, I explore the possibilities. I dig deeper, search wider. I reckon it’s a gamble, playing roulette with my heart. But, I ain't one to shy away from a challenge. Ever.
I mount up my mare, my ride in the arena is in the next set, and I need to get my head in the game. Ready to rip across the red dirt and push her to her limits.
I tighten my grip on the reins, pushing my boots into the stirrups. A cowgirl in a sea of cowboys, searching for a love as wild and free as the open prairie. Looking for a man who can match my intensity, a man who won't be intimidated by the fire within me.
I adjust my Stetson, gaze drifting over the arena one last time before the race. It’s a shot in the dark, but then again, isn't everything in this life? I square my shoulders, my heart beating in time with the pound of hooves on hard-packed earth. The last of the bull riders flying in the air after letting loose his bull rope. He lands on his feet and the crowd roars.
Time to step into the fray, to embrace the adrenaline and uncertainty. After all, you can't win the rodeo sitting on the sidelines, and the same holds for love. Right?
It takes only minutes for the rodeo clowns to set their barrels in the right positions, off to the side rails. The organizers set the racing barrels in the center of the arena exactly where they need to be, set in the perfect triangle. It’s not that far of a ride, the longest bit is the third barrel back to the line at about a hundred feet. I am the last rider in the circuit today, so I watch intently as the other girls head out and take their rides.
The dirt flies behind the hooves of the horses, they circle right out of the gate, and take each barrel in turn. Driving their heels in deep to sprint that last bit to the finish.
The second rider takes the second barrel too tight and the horse’s balance is thrown. Horse and rider both land on their sides. The collective gasp in the arena shows they’re holding their breath. Was she hurt?
She gets up and dusts off her ass, then waves to the crowd as they start to cheer. The announcer encourages the crowd noise as she checks on her horse. He looks to have no obvious injury, standing before she had.
The runs looked to be in slow motion for me though. I see each mistake they make, note it. I need to take this win to continue on the circuit for the championship rounds.
I take my horse into the chute, and calm her so she doesn’t buck me into the wall. She knows her job, we’ve trained endlessly.
CHAPTER TWO
The horn blares and the chute opens. I kick my heels hard and lean forward in the saddle. Once I cross the start line I turn right by tugging the reins. I circle the first barrel, and kick hard.
“Yah! C’mon girl.”
Circling the second barrel the dirt feels loose from the previous riders, but my girl takes it like the champ I know she is, and we bolt up to the third barrel in the arena.
Circling around where the finish line is now in sight, I push up on my feet in the stirrups, leaning forward to the mane, my knees bent.
I use the whip of the reins to slap the side of her ribs, getting the reaction I need of a bit more speed. The crowd yells and woops. Cowbells clanking all around me. The dirt clouding the air and filling my lungs and nostrils with its dust. My adrenaline is pumping. My heart rate as high as I can possibly take it. Breathing heavy I cross the line.
I lean back in the saddle, and pull the reins down to slow back to a trot, and take her around the edges of the arena fence before circling back through the chute.
I hop off my horse and wave with my stetson to the crowd after the announcer gives my score.
I know I’ve taken the win, and couldn’t be happier with the chance to keep competing in the championships.
Fate sure has a quirky sense of timing.
As I straighten from my final bow after the race, I spot him. A bronc rider with eyes as deep and dark as a Texas midnight. His gaze lingers on me, a flicker of interest lighting his face. My heart trips over its own beat. I fumble with my hat, drop it, curse under my breath as I scoop it up. Smooth, Iris, real smooth.
I make my way out of the arena and around toward the side that I saw the man that oozes strong and sexy.
