Page 81 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

She wasn’t just good.

She was fucking phenomenal.

I started looking at the times.

At first they meant nothing to me, but after enough videos I understood where she usually landed.

She was consistent and fast.

Blueberry knew her job, but Carson knew that horse.

In one video, Blueberry stumbled slightly coming out of the second turn. Carson recovered before half the crowd seemed to notice.

In another, she lost her hat before the first barrel and never looked back.

Then I found an interview.

The thumbnail was Carson standing beside Blueberry with a microphone shoved toward her face.

I clicked.

She couldn’t have been more than twenty. Her cheeks were red from exertion, strands of blonde hair stuck to her forehead, and she kept reaching over to rub Blueberry’s nose while the interviewer talked.

“Another win for Carson Rome tonight. You’ve been having one hell of a season.”

Young Carson laughed. “Can I say hell?”

“You just did.” The interviewer laughed too.

“Well, my Meme’s gonna yell at me.”

I found myself laughing. That sounded more like the Carson I knew.

The interviewer asked about her plans. Carson’s expression changed immediately into pure excitement. The guarded girl I knew was nowhere to be seen.

“I want to go pro.”

She said it without hesitation. No embarrassment. No pretending she didn’t want something badly enough to be hurt if it never happened.

“That’s always been the goal. Pops says I’m getting ahead of myself, but he also tells everyone I’m gonna be famous, so he’s a hypocrite.”

Somebody off camera yelled something.

“See?” Carson looked toward them. “That’s him.”

The camera moved. James stood near the fence with one hand raised. “You’re givin’ away all our secrets, Sunshine!”

Carson shouted back, “You don’t have secrets!”

“Got plenty!”

“Name one!”

“Wouldn’t be a secret then!”

The interviewer was laughing when the camera returned to Carson.

She shook her head. “He’s ridiculous.” But she looked at him like he hung the damn moon.