Page 91 of Ethan

“Hey.” Ethan’s hand came to her knee. “You alright?”

She looked down at him. “Why did I have to draw last?”

“Luck of the draw, darlin’.” He squeezed her knee. “You’ll be fine. Vader knows what to do. You just hang on.”

She blew out her breath. “I’m so nervous. The time to beat is going to be hard.”

“You’ve been here before.” He held her gaze, steady and certain in that way of his. “You’ve got this. I’m sure a lot of buyers will be interested in him.”

“I’m glad one of us is confident.”

“I will always have faith in you.” Another squeeze.

She managed a grin, then looked past him and felt her chest fill up.

His whole family was making their way toward her through the crowd. Ada and Gus, Cole and Aftyn, Seth and Ryan. Behind them came Johnny and Serena, walking close together that made Naomi smile. And behind them Rowdy and Curly and the rest of the ranch hands, hats in hand, grinning like they’d come to watch one of their own.

Everyone pressed close and wished her luck, hands on her boot, on Vader’s neck, voices warm and certain.

She looked at all of them and thought that she’d never felt less alone in her life.

When her name crackled over the loudspeaker Vader’s ears snapped forward and he danced beneath her, ready.

She leaned down, found Ethan’s eyes one last time, and kissed him.

Then she straightened, gathered her reins, and rode toward the alley.

Vader knew. She could feel it as he moved under her, coiled and focused, his whole body tuned to what was coming. He’d been here before, maybe not this arena, but this moment. The noise, the dirt, the electric anticipation in the air. He knew what it meant.

Naomi kept him collected as they moved into position, her eyes on the light, her body quiet and still above him. The crowd noise faded to a low roar at the edges of her awareness. Everything narrowed down to the alley ahead, the light and the three barrels waiting beyond it.

This was the part that separated a good run from a great one. Timing the approach, building speed without breaking the plane too early. Cross the electric eye before the timer started and it was over. No time. Disqualification. Everything she and Vader had worked for gone in a single mistimed stride.

She’d done this a thousand times. She gathered herself, felt Vader gather beneath her, and began to move. The green light flashed and they flew.

Vader hit the alley at full speed and the crowd noise disappeared entirely.

First barrel.

She felt him rate himself perfectly, his hindquarters driving under him as he wrapped around it tight and clean, her inside leg guiding him through the turn without touching the barrel, and then they were out of it and driving hard for the second.

This was the one. The one that had beaten him before, the one where he’d drop his shoulder and lose both time and composure. She felt him start to lean and she sat deep and lifted her rein, just enough, a whisper of a correction, and he found himself and came around it clean.

She heard the crowd react, but it was distant and meaningless.

Third barrel.

He was running on instinct and trust now, both of them were. He took it wide and tight all at once and only a horse who truly understood the pattern could, and then they were in the home stretch, and she was asking him for everything he had.

He gave it.

She crossed the line, stood in the stirrups and Vader thundered past the electric eye and she brought him around in a wide arc, his sides heaving, and the arena erupted.

She didn’t know the time yet. She didn’t need to. She knew.

The announcer’s voice broke through the noise.

“Folks, that is a new arena record. Naomi Austin on Vader with a time of—”