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“Mm-hmm,” she hums, nuzzling closer into me.
“Come on, sweet girl,” I say, giving her a final kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go see what the boys are up to.”
“Not nearly as much fun as we’re having.” Naomi chuckles.
Chapter 13
Alvaro
I’m forty-five and retired as one of the oldest guys on the PRCA circuit, especially for tie-down roping. Pretty sure I broke a record of some sort with my tenure. The multiple NFR Championships under my belt make me one of the best, and in my retirement, I am the best man around to train with.
This weekend, a group of boys came down to learn the ropes and I’m happy to tear into their pride a bit.
We’re out at the arena closest to the barns, practicing, when I spot Bex and Naomi coming back from their trail ride. The closer they get, the more entranced I become by them.
They’re practically glowing with the halo of sunlight coming from behind them. Bex has a gleam in her eyes that tells me there are stories to be shared about their trail ride.
“You teachin’ those boy’s a lesson?” Bex calls out as they pull up to the arena and settle in to watch.
“About to,” I shout.
I go through critiquing each of the guys’ start techniques, picking apart their strengths and weaknesses. With each start, I push them harder, getting closer to their limits.
It’s been a while since I hopped on a horse to show the trainees how it’s done. Having those girls just outside the arena with a perfect view of the gate, I have the men practice their starts. I feel warm envy sparking to life in my chest. Every barking command to the boys has their eyes snapping toward me, and I want it. I want their full attention on me.
All of them.
Jealousy thrumming in my veins, I exaggerate my disappointment in the guys’ performances and have two of the ranch hands bring up my horse, Pop Rocks, and one of the more energetic calves we use for practice.
At the sight of me, Pop Rocks tosses her head, and I know she is ready for this. Retired like me, she still carries the familiar heat of approaching an arena and preparing for the seven seconds that push adrenaline through our blood. Those seconds are what define us as a legendary tie-down roping team. Pop Rocks’s wide brown eyes and proudly held head tell me she feels the same way.
I take her reins from the ranch hand and toss them back over her head. With one step and a swing of my leg, I seat myself on Pop Rocks’s back. Her front hooves stomp in joy and anticipation, and I lean down to scratch along her mane where she likes it.
Besides Bex, this horse is my best girl.
Looking up, I see my wife’s and Naomi’s full attention on me. They’ve dismounted from their mares and are hugging the edge of the arena. Bex is smirking at me knowingly, and I wink at her. Naomi is looking at me wide-eyed, and even from far away, I can see how her chest rises and falls with her quickened breaths.
A light squeeze of my thighs around Pop Rocks’s barrel is all she needs to trot toward the pair.
“Gonna show the guys how it’s done?” Bex calls out as we approach.
“They need a little reminder,” I say, chuckling as I turn back to see the trainees and several of the ranch hands swinging up onto the arena’s railing to watch. “Gotta show ‘em why they’re here.”
“Why’s that, Old Man Silver?” Bex laughs.
“Well, I’m the best there is. They need a humblin’ every once and a while.” I laugh.
“Why the nickname Old Man Silver?” Naomi asks genuinely.
“Because before retirement, he was the oldest guy on the PRCA circuit for several years,” Bex says, and I huff, annoyed at the reminder, before nudging Pop Rocks to get her moving.
I try to focus on warming up Pop Rocks a bit as we trot around a few times, doing a few simple circles and serpentines across the arena. Passing by the boys is no problem, but each time I pass the girls, they have me sitting a bit straighter in my saddle.
“Jefe,” one of the ranch hands calls out, “el ternero está listo para funcionar.” (Boss, the calf is all ready to go.)
I rock my hips and Pop Rocks transitions into a smooth canter toward the girls. I pull out my stopwatch from where I tucked it into my button-up and hand it off to Bex.
“Time me, birdie. I’ll finish in less than seven seconds.”
