“There she is!” My dad called, slipping his arms from my mother’s grasp to wrap me in an all-consuming hug. “Good to see you, pumpkin.”
“Hi, Dad.” I leaned into him. “I didn’t think you would be here.”
“Both of my girls here; how could I not come? And I finally got to meet the famous Wyatt we’ve heard so much about.” He let me go, taking a step back to slap Wyatt on the shoulder, forcing him forward with how hard my dad hit him. “You got yourself a good one, Quinn.”
“I didn’t think you were dating,” my mother finally said, her tone blank.
“Since June? Right, Quinn?” Wyatt looked at me, his brow furrowed.
I nodded. “Yeah. You knew, Mom. It was at Reno.”
She raised her chin and gave a slighthmm. “Oh yes, glad to see you’re still together then. He must be a bigger help than you thought.”
“No, ma’am,” Wyatt answered for me, sticking his fingers in his Wrangler pockets. “I just saddle the horse.”
She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I’m sure you do more than that.”
“Helen, leave him be. He was saddling up her horse when we got here. Which one is this? Charming?” Dad turned to Hook, who gave him a side eye as his ears tilted back.
“This asshole is Hook.” Wyatt reached up to scratch behind his ears, automatically easing the tension in him.
“Excuse me?” Mom snapped, her eyes flaring wide as she looked at Wyatt.
“He may be an asshole”—I gave Hook a pat on his nose—“but he’s great. He pulls in amazing times.” I added, ignoring Mom’s comment.
“The horse is only as good as the rider. They’re a team.” Wyatt met my gaze. “And Quinn—barrel racing’s princess, right? She’s worked hard to get here. So have her boys.”
“It’s really been wonderful watching you, pumpkin. I can’t wait to see you in action tonight.” Dad gave me a smile.
“Yes, well.” Mom took a step forward. “I’ll be with Kelly and the girls. Chelsea won Montana this year, did you hear that, Quinn? So, she’s following Kelly closely to America, learning everything to get there herself. Kelly is a shoo-in this NFR to take America.”
“That’s great.” I faked excitement.
“Well.” She sighed, keeping her eyes on me as her hand gripped my dad’s forearm. “We'd better go help her get ready and everything. Lance.”
“Good luck out there, pumpkin. We’ll be cheering for you.” Dad gave me another hug, kissing my temple before Mom swept him away from us. I watched until they turned the corner and vanished, and then the breath left my lungs.
“What were they talking to you about before I came up?” I turned to Wyatt.
“Me, mainly. Your dad knew who I was. He was asking about Rhett and Lachlan, too.” He looked out over the crowd. “They just asked a bunch of questions. I’m kinda surprised they didn’t stick around longer once you got here. They just…left.” He raised his arm towards them.
“That’s normal.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I’m glad they didn’t stay longer, honestly. Now…” I leaned into him, placing my hands on his chest. “There’s a carnival, and I would very much like to take you—”
“Hartwell!” A loud call broke me off, and I turned, seeing Hawkins run up. “Oh, hey, Quinn…” He stopped once he got to us, completely out of breath, placing his hands on his knees. “Sorry,”—he raised a finger—“gimme a minute.”
I held back a chuckle and looked up at Wyatt, who also seemed like he was trying hard not to laugh at his friend.
“You good, man?” Wyatt chuckled, watching his friend heave breath after breath like he just ran a triathlon he didn’t train for.
“Yep. Just ran around the entire arena looking for you. If I didn’t run into Lance, I wouldn’t have found you so fast.” Hawkins stood. “Sam’s sick—like dying sick.”
“What?” Wyatt asked, his voice raising higher than even he probably intended. “Is he okay? What’s wrong?”
“Yeah, he’ll be fine, but he caught the flu somehow—he can’t announce.”
“You got the show right? You’ve done it.” Wyatt wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
“Fuck no,” Hawkins croaked. “This is a two…three…man job, and without Sam, we would be drowning. I’m just glad you’re here. Archie agreed to let you fill in.”
