Because when I look out into the arena, my focus doesn’t settle on the other riders.
It finds him.
Jace stands near the chutes, shoulders loose but ready, every movement controlled in a way that feels different from the man I remember. There’s nothing reckless in it. Nothing careless. Just focus, steady and sharp, like he knows exactly what he’s stepping into.
And that should make this easier.
It doesn’t.
“Is that him?” Hadley asks, already leaning forward, like she’s afraid she might miss something.
“Yeah,” I answer, my voice quieter than I mean it to be.
She beams, bouncing a little where she stands, and I tighten my hand on her shoulder just enough to steady her without pulling her back.
I try to see this the way she does. This is her first rodeo ever. I get down to her level and explain what the goal is here for the rider. She seems to understand and loves the challenge of it.
Exciting.
Impressive.
Something to be proud of.
But all I can see is the risk. I'm glad she doesn't see that part.
The way the bulls slam into the gates hard enough to rattle metal. The way the riders move like they’re one wrong second away from hitting the ground. The way the entire thing feels balanced on something that could go bad faster than anyone can react.
This life.
It’s dangerous.
There’s no way around that.
And suddenly, it’s not just his risk anymore.
That thought lands harder than anything else, settling deep and sharp in a way I can’t ignore.
Hadley shifts closer to the fence, completely focused, completely trusting that what she’s watching is something good, something worth being here for.
I wish it felt that simple.
The announcer’s voice carries over the speakers, calling out names and stats that don’t mean much to me, but the crowd reacts anyway, energy building with each rider that steps up. I watch each one, trying to understand the rhythm of it, the way the crowd leans in, the way everything seems to hinge on a few seconds that decide everything.
Then his name is called.
It hits the crowd different.
I feel it before I even realize why, the shift in volume, the way people turn, the way attention sharpens just enough to notice.
Beside me, Hadley lights up. “That’s him!” she says, louder this time, like everyone else might not have caught it.
I nod, even though my focus is already locked in, my body going still in a way I don’t control.
Jace moves into position, smooth and steady, like he’s done this a thousand times, and maybe he has. He swings up onto the rail and settles in, one hand gripping tight as the bull shifts beneath him.
Everything slows.
At least it feels like it does.
