Page 2 of Jillaroo from Jacaranda

Leaning in, Rose placed a hand on her great-grandmother’s cursive writing. ‘I’m going to make you super proud this weekend, Great-Grandma,’ she said quietly, blinking back tears. ‘I just wish you were here to watch.’ She bit down on her bottom lip to stop from crying. ‘But I know you’ll be cheering me on from heaven.’

Running at her dreams head-on had been a trait the strong women of her family had taught her – her grandmother, her mum and her aunties. She wasn’t about to let go of that, not even for Finley. She just hoped he loved her enough to accept who she truly was.

Taking a breath, she turned and gathered her emotions before stepping from the shade of the leather-scented tack shed. Having made the effort to dress in her competitive gear – it always gave her that extra oomph – she looked every part of the champion barrel racer, with her diamanté-studded jeans, blingy belt, pink and purple checked Western shirt and timeworn Ariat boots.

Hands on hips, her wide-brimmed hat pulled level to her brows and her long brown hair pulled into a tightly plaited ponytail, she narrowed her gaze and looked towards the arena that she’d spent countless hours in over the years. Heath had positioned the three barrels perfectly for her cloverleaf pattern. She adored that he cared enough to know that every second counted.

The terrain underfoot was a little soft after the overnight rain – something to take into consideration. With her trained eye, backed up by a nudge with the toe of her boot, she could tell if an arena was going to be shallow or deep or have a deceptively hard pan underneath which could injure a horse. And even though winning was important, she’d prefer to knock back a race than risk hurting her beloved gelding.

As if sensing her thoughts were on him, Buck turned and whinnied from where he was patiently waiting for their training session to begin. His red chestnut coat glistened beneath the mid-morning sunshine, and he looked mighty dapper in his new set of splint boots and glittery halter. Shoving her hands into her pockets, Rose forgot about everything that had been weighing her down and smiled from the inside out. Three turns, two hearts and one pair of tightly united souls – that was her and Buck down to a tee. God, how she loved him. In thirteen years, they’d been through so much together and knew each other like only best mates could. He made her laugh with his playful antics, and had taken her on many adventures, while his mane had wiped away many of her tears. She couldn’t imagine life without him.

The crunch of gravel under tyres pulled her gaze down the earthy track. Spotting Molly climb from her new LandCruiser Sahara, she instantly felt the familiar peace her mother had always brought into her life.

‘Hey, Mum.’ Rose gave her a wave as she took steps to close the distance.

‘Hi, sweetheart,’ Molly hollered back as she ambled towards her with Rose’s six-year-old sister, Lizzy, in tow. ‘Sorry I’m a little late, but this munchkin was a right Little Miss Grumpy Pants this morning.’

Lizzy glanced up at her mum, her face crumpled with characteristic Miller rebelliousness. ‘It was Angus’s fault for eating all the peanut butter.’

‘Yes, so you’ve said.’ Molly offered a playful glance to Rose. ‘Many times.’

‘Wowsers.’ Rose had to fight to curb her laughter. She wasn’t surprised, given their teenage brother’s appetite. ‘Sounds serious.’ She forced a frown in Lizzy’s direction.

‘Oh, trust me, Rose, it was almost World War III.’ Molly rolled her eyes. ‘Thank god Heath came to the rescue with one of those little sachet thingies of peanut butter he gets from the breakfast bar at the mine.’

‘Ha, yeah. At least now you’ll live to fight another day.’ Grinning at her mum’s exasperated expression, Rose brushed a kiss on her cheek then bent to do the same to Lizzy. ‘You’re going to turn into a tub of peanut butter one of these days, my little ferret.’

Lizzy giggled. ‘You’re so silly, sis.’

‘I try to be.’ Ruffling Lizzy’s platinum blonde ringlets, Rose straightened.

‘Right then.’ Molly clapped her hands together. ‘Let’s get this show on the road, shall we? Before it gets too hot to think.’

‘Yes.’ Rose nodded. ‘Let’s.’

Though she hadn’t carried on in her mother’s vein of horse whispering, the love of these magnificent creatures ran deep in her blood. She adored teaching kids to ride, found the thrill of rounding up cattle and wayward bulls addictive, and sharing her wealth of knowledge in her bestselling guidebooks was such a blessing – she wasn’t about to put all of that on hold for the life Finley had apparently chosen for her. He was clearly counting on her to be a stay-at-home wife and mother, and although she wanted to make him happy, the thought of being housebound for the next twenty-odd years terrified her. That was where one of her favoured lines from her favourite Nicholas Sparks movie, The Longest Ride, about love requiring sacrifice, came into play. If only it was as easily done as said.

Rose couldn’t wait to be in the saddle – it’s where she lived to be – and she was eager to get into the last training session before the annual Mareeba Christmas Eve Rodeo on the weekend.

Reaching Buck, Rose pecked him on the muzzle. ‘Right, my boy. Let’s do this.’ She vaulted into the saddle. Locking her boot heels into the stirrups, she quickly got settled as she studied the cloverleaf pattern she was about to make around the three barrels. With Buck eyeing the path too, the gelding pushed into the bit as she got him into starting position. His body twitching with anticipation, he snorted and stomped his hoof, ears forward and muscles coiling tightly beneath the saddle. Rose knew every bit of Buck’s powerful build was honed and ready – she treasured how he was always as keen as she was to reach the finishing line. It’s what made them a team to be reckoned with.

Standing on the bottom rail with her arms resting on the top one, Molly held the stopwatch up. ‘You two ready to go, sweetheart?’ Her singsong voice carried across the yard.

Rose flashed her a smile. ‘Yes.’

‘And … go.’

Rose barely twitched the reins and Buck exploded like a missile fired. Eyes intent on making the sharp turn, they shot towards the first barrel. Dirt flew out from Buck’s hooves as he dug down and curved around it. She watched where his feet were going, one powerful stride after the other. Clouded by dust, she maintained her core and kept her hips ground evenly into the saddle as she cut him tight around the second one. Relaxing her midsection, she encouraged him to shorten his stride as he approached the final one. Like a bolt of lightning, he shot around it, swiftly and smoothly, careful not to tip it. Then, with one last burst of speed, he galloped for the finishing line.

‘Wow, Rose.’ Molly danced on the spot as she bellowed out, ‘Fourteen point two seconds.’

‘Woohoo,’ Rose exhaled. ‘Did you hear that, Buck? We just cut point three seconds off our record.’ She gave him a rub for a job well done. ‘Yay for us, my clever boy! I reckon we might have this in the bag.’

Buck bobbed his head then whinnied animatedly, enticing a wholehearted giggle from Lizzy.

Finding her little sister’s laughter addictive, Rose smiled even wider as she gently pulled Buck to a stop just short of Molly and Lizzy. ‘Of course you agree with me, hey buddy? You always do.’ She dismounted in one graceful movement and collected a kiss on the cheek from her mum. ‘I love you so much, mumma bear. Thank you for everything you do for me. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without you.’

‘Pfft, don’t speak of it.’ Waving a hand through the air, Molly smiled like only a mother could towards a daughter. ‘I love you to the moon and back, my sweet girl.’ She tucked a wisp of hair behind Rose’s ear before bringing her hands to her cheeks. ‘You’re looking a little weary today, love. Make sure you rest up before the weekend, won’t you?’