Kitty resumed, “Of course, Bart didn’t know how much he paid, but he didn’t seem to care. I think he must have stolen a bundle from an Afghani warlord.”
Cheyenne said to Kitty, “On second thought, maybe Bartisgoing to get laid tonight.”
Bart didn’t say a word, sitting next to Molly, nursing his cognac.
Molly asked, “So, how’d the evening go?”
Molly and Bart were naked in bed, the family all gone.
The party had lasted from 4:00 until 10:00. Everyone stayed to help clean up. Molly was happy. The food was put away and the kitchen was clean. The meal had been a huge hit. The men barbequed the ribs to a perfect char and cut them into two heaping bowls. The oversized mac and cheese dish was bubbling and delicious. Beer and drinks flowed. The music was perfect.Conversation was loud and continuous. Molly had enjoyed every part of the party, but particularly the evening’s end sitting around the fire, drinking cognac, and watching night fall on the lake and mountains.
“I don’t see how it could have gone any better.”
“Your family was so good to bring the ribs and help out. I think everyone who came was helping on something. That makes a party like that pretty easy.”
“It was easy because of all the work you did in advance.”
“Cheyenne thinks you’re going to get lucky tonight.”
“It doesn’t matter what Cheyenne thinks. It only matters what you think.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m going to get lucky.”
“That works for me.”
“Do you mind if I just lie on my back, spread my legs, and let you do the work? I’m exhausted.”
He didn’t answer, but ten minutes later Molly had her legs pointed straight up in the air and was gasping and groaning like a happy cowgirl on the last leg of a fantastic race.
Chapter 21
Bart took the non-racers for a leisurely ride to Lookout Ridge Thursday morning, including the kids. The trail had everything. Open range at the start, a beautiful trail through a Ponderosa Pine forest along Alpine Creek, and finally an ascent up a narrow trail to the ridge itself. It was the most popular trail ride offered at Summer’s End.
Molly and the ladies warmed up their horses, then met to discuss the practice routine.
“I got an email this morning that there are twelve teams in Ladies Unlimited. It’s unusual to have that many, so they’re doing two qualifying heats, six teams in each qualifier. Our qualifier is at 12:30. The finals are at 2:30. Three teams from each qualifier will advance to the finals. So, we just need to be in the top three in our qualifier. There’s no advantage to winning our qualifier, so if we are well positioned, it makes sense to coast in with the top three, and rest the horses.”
Kitty said, “The McKinnons are not very good at coasting.”
Molly chuckled. “I get it. Is everyone okay with the idea that their horse will be running two quarter-mile races this afternoon? Does that affect how we practice this morning?”
Cassie said, “Let’s take it easy and just focus on the baton pass.”
Molly said, “I agree. I’ve done this race pretty much every year since I was thirteen, and I have a routine I recommend for rehearsing the baton pass.”
All agreed, and Molly set up the exercise.
The fairground was quite the scene. They parked away from the action, saddled up, and followed Molly around the edge of the parking lot to a huge field with a practice track where several hundred competitors were warming up. There were forty-eight riders just in Women’s Unlimited. They also had Men’s Unlimited and junior races.
Molly could feel the excitement building for their first heat. The rest of the McKinnon clan was in the bleachers watching. Over five thousand spectators were in attendance. The relay races were a wildly popular Stampede event. The initial heats of the fourteen-and eighteen-year-olds were being run. The local crowd loved rooting for kids they knew.
Cassie had shown up with four matching pink rodeo shirts with “Team Mack” embroidered in heavy black thread on the back over a rearing stallion. They all wore blue jeans and black cowgirl hats securely fastened around their chins. Most of the other serious teams had matching outfits. Team Mack stayed to themselves on the practice field but with a view of the races. The energy from the screaming crowd was infectious. Molly was pumped, and she could see her team was ready.
They’d decided the order would be Cheyenne, Kitty, Molly, and Cassie, so they’d practiced the baton passes with the ladies they’d be receiving from and passing to. The baton was a twofoot long wood dowel. The passing lady put it in position and the receiving lady grabbed and pulled. The race had a thirty yard zone in which the baton had to be passed.
As their race was called, the team moved into position in the track infield. By random draw, they were in a middle lane. After the race started, they didn’t have to stay in their lane until it was time for the baton pass. The baton pass had to occur in the assigned lane.
Molly loved the adrenaline of competitive riding. She loved this event and every barrel race she’d ever competed in. Her body was alive, her heart pumping, her face flushed. Just before the race, she focused all her attention on Ginger, caressing her neck, calming her down, reassuring her. Ginger knew she was in a race. She’d been watching the earlier heats. She’d been conditioning regularly with Molly and had done the baton drills that morning. Molly knew they were ready.
