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All that sparkle looks like a whole lot of fun.
The last woman to enter the arena is one I recognize immediately as Anna—the birthgiver. She looks beautiful, I can’t deny that, but there’s lead in my gut every time I look at her and think about the callous way she’s abandoned her daughter.
She’s glitz and glam on the surface—a real rodeo supermodel—but underneath, I don’t even know if there’s real flesh and bone.
I mean, there couldn’t be…
Not with the way she ignores Joey’s existence entirely.
I glance up at Rhett to find him staring at her. His jaw is relaxed and his eyes contemplative. I’m not sure what any of it means.
My mind, obviously, has several narratives of jealousy it’d like to push on me—he’s still in love with her, he misses her, he wishes things were different—but the rational part of me knows better.
I definitely didn’t miss the speed and apathy with which he left Anna standing by his truck to greet Joey and me when we arrived.
The crowd goes crazy as she does a fancy quick spin, her horse’s hind hooves planted in the sand of the arena as the flag whirls gracefully. She smiles huge, does a semi-bow, curtsy thing from the top of her horse and then winks to the crowd as she presents the flag and the National Anthem starts.
I have to actively work to keep myself from laughing aloud. Instead, I lean toward Rhett and whisper, “She sure likes the attention, huh?”
He scoffs but doesn’t say anything else. I’m pretty sure, however, the sound is meant to convey his agreement.
After standing for the National Anthem, all of the cowboys return their hats to their heads, and the group of flag-wielding riders clears the arena. A chatter starts up in the crowd again, and then an announcer comes on over the PA system.
“Welcome, boys and girls, to Shaw Springs Ranch Fourth of July Extravaganza! How about we give a huge round of applause to the Jameson family for all their hard work on today’s events before we get started!”
A roar comes over the crowd, and several men all around us lean forward to slap Rhett on the back. My eyes are like ping-pong balls as they bounce around, trying to figure out where all the hands and arms are coming from.
Rhett takes his hat off briefly and waves it above his head, and I see Tex, a few bleacher sets away, do the same thing. Jenny stands up and waves too, and it’s only then that I notice Joey isn’t sitting with her anymore.
The panic is immediate and intense.
“Rhett!” I say sharply—much more sharply than intended. “Where’s Joey? I thought she was with Jenny, but I don’t see her anymore.”
He glances that direction but pretty quickly turns back, shakes his head, and even pats my leg right above the knee. “Relax. She’s probably in the back, all suited up for her turn on the sheep.”
“Wait…Joey is muffin bustin’?” I nearly yell. Both Clay and Rhett laugh, Clay even more so than Rhett. Honestly, he’s too uproarious for my taste, and I don’t even know what he’s laughing about.
“It’s mutton bustin’,” Rhett corrects. “Not muffin.”
“Who cares!” I whisper-yell. “I don’t care if it’s blueberry or corn or freaking cranberry muttons. I care that Joey is doing it!”
He laughs again, and it’s a good thing his brace is there because I get too violent with his leg when I slam down my fist. But he’s fine; I know he is since I got all plastic with my blow, so I ignore my mistake and focus on what’s important. Joey.
“How are you so calm right now? Couldn’t she get hurt?”
Rhett shrugs. “In theory? Sure. But she could get hurt doin’ anything, darlin’. And she’s been doin’ these events at local rodeos for goin’ on two years now. You don’t have to worry about her. These other kids do—she’s pretty stiff competition.”
“So, what am I supposed to do? Just sit here and watch her get thrown to the dirt?”
Rhett reaches over and grabs my leg, but unlike my volatile reaction, he leaves it there to give me a rub of comfort. “It’s sweet that you’re worried, Leah. Really. But I promise you, she’ll be all right. I wouldn’t let her do it if it was as big’a deal as you’re makin’ it seem. She’s gotta hold on for six seconds, and I can almost guarantee ya she will. She’s good. Focus on that, maybe, instead of all your doom and gloom, and get excited. She’s gonna give ya somethin’ to cheer for.”
My nerves battle stoutly against Rhett’s words and the common sense they attempt to elude. I’m used to caring for the well-being of my patients and my brother and my friends, but none of those feel like this does.
This is more extreme—almost instinctive in nature. After just a month of time here at Shaw Springs, I care about that little girl more than I’ve probably cared about anything before.
