Maybe it isn’t about abandoning who we are, but about adapting, growing, and adding new revenue streams. Just like this academy and Harleigh’s new guest ranch.
The business side of me understands that.
The rodeo side of me doesn’t care.
The rodeo side just knows it’s gonna mean work. And all that side cares about is getting back on the road come fall.
Royce apparently reaches the same conclusion. “Fine. We’re in. But don’t ever expect to see my ass before eight a.m.”
Cabe smiles. “You can work times out with Dad and Grandpa.”
Royce groans.
I groan louder.
Micah laughs so hard that he nearly doubles over. “Welcome to ranching, boys.”
“We already ranch.”
“No.” Micah points toward the bronc chute. “You play with bulls and horses for a living. While we do the real work.”
I take offense to that. “We don’t play.”
“You get paid to ride them, don’t you?”
“That’s not—”
“You literally get paid to ride livestock.”
I look at Royce.
He shrugs. “He’s kind of got a point.”
Micah grins. The asshole is just trying to get a rise out of me.
Cabe shakes his head.
Micah glances toward the practice arena. “So, this is today’s class?”
“Yep.”
“Broncs?”
“Broncs.”
“Saddle or no saddle?”
“Bareback,” I say.
He whistles. “Kids are gonna get wrecked.”
“Nah. They’ll be fine.”
“Famous last words, right before somebody gets wrecked,” he mutters.
Royce finishes securing the gate and walks over. “So, you here for good?” he asks.
Micah nods. “Looks that way.”
