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“Fine. We need a turnback rider, and that colt needs a little seasoning. Do you mind?”
I shook my head and reeled the colt in by the rein. He was a handsome sorrel stud with four white socks and a blaze; a full brother to our champion stallion Five Iron. Cody thought this might be his Futurity horse this year, providing he could get the colt to settle into his job. That was what this trip was all about.
“Better check your cinch on him. He’ll split out from under you,” Cody called over his shoulder. “I’m going to look in on Emily in the practice pen.”
I patted the colt’s neck and slid my hand under the cinch. He dropped his head and twisted his neck as I adjusted the latigo, champing on the snaffle and shuffling his feet. Anxiety nearly poured out of him, but if he was anything like his famous brother, he’d outgrow that and learn to focus his energy once he discovered what this showing thing was all about. For now, though, he looked like he was about to vibrate out from under the saddle.
“You and me both, kid,” I murmured as I put my foot in the stirrup. “You and me both.”
Riding turnback is a lot harder than it looks. The task seems like it would be simple: sit in the corners of the pen when a rider goes into the herd to cut, and keep the cow in a safe area so it doesn’t get out of control and the person working the herd can get his job done. A good turnback rider can set the exhibitor up for a solid run. A bad one can lose the class for them.
But the show was yesterday. Today was just about practice. It was a good thing, too, because I hadn’t ridden a cutting horse in over a year. I was used to my big solid rope horses; all steam and power, but they only went one direction. These little cutters could twist out from under the saddle in the blink of an eye, and I always imagined the cartoons where the coyote didn’t even start falling until he realized the ground wasn’t there anymore. There was probably a metaphor for my life in there somewhere, but I didn’t want to think about it too hard. I wiggled into a secure position in the saddle and held on.
Maserati was looking hot. Even stronger than last fall when she’d been crowned the Snaffle Bit Futurity champion. She was the fourth horse to come into the herd while I was working the corners, and I might have been biased, but she was the sharpest-looking thing to step in that pen. She had style, that mare—crouching so low I’m sure Cody’s heels were dragging in the dirt, and all I could see of her legs were flashes of white polo wraps as she threw them from one side to the other. Cody had been right. She woke up down here in California, facing some fresh cows and new dirt. She was the type who craved a challenge.
My mind got swallowed up in nostalgia, watching her. I’d been busy yesterday when Cody showed her, and the last time I remembered seeing her work was down in Fort Worth. It was right after Morgan and Cody got engaged, and we were all gathered as a family, cheering together and enjoying that golden moment of victory. It was that evening, back in the hotel room, that I’d writtenThe Cowboy’s Call; my little ode to the way of life I loved, with all its hardships and triumphs as well as the simple, perfect moments of clarity that went along with it.
I’d been thinking of Jess as I fiddled with my pen between putting down lines. How something about her defined everything I was trying to capture, and how I ached just to touch it. I hadn’t even slept that night, because Morgan had been bouncing wedding plan ideas off of me during the show. She was going to ask Jess to be one of her bridesmaids, and I would get to be her escort. Stupid me, I thought it was going to be my big chance. And then, Austen.
The colt jerked beneath me, ducking and diving to head off Cody’s cow. It was only by sheer luck that I didn’t lose my seat and topple unceremoniously into the dirt. At least the horse was paying attention, even if I wasn’t. He trembled with excitement, his feet dancing a staccato as he tried to anticipate the cow’s next move. When the blank Angus gave up and lumbered away, I felt the colt settle and draw some air.
I leaned back to stroke his hip, praising him for a job well done, and he relaxed enough to play with the bit. His ears swiveled around, listening first to me, then to all the commotion happening in the herd. His eyes were still roving everywhere in eagerness, but he wasn’t acting nervous anymore. He’d figured out what he had to do, and now, he was on. That was all this guy needed—time and a little confidence in himself, knowing he was doing what he was put on this earth to do.
If only assurance were so easy to come by for people.
Jess
“I don’t understand it. His phone has been going to voice mail for three days.”
Audrey’s forehead dimpled in a frown. “You’re sure you have the right number?”
“Yes, I’m sure. The greeting is his voice, and I’ve messaged him on there before. Could he be ghosting me?”
“I don’t think Dusty would do that, would he? There isn’t a mean bone in his body.”
“That’s my point. What if he’s not interested anymore, and he’s too embarrassed to tell me?”
“Please, Jess, be serious. How could henotbe interested?”
“Well, I’m sure I was pretty horrible to him. I wouldn’t blame him,” I answered miserably.
Audrey shook her head and stretched across the table. We were at my house, going through theStockman’smagazines together in hopes that we would find our next brilliant idea for the after-school program. Mostly, it was just an excuse to get together with her. “I’m not buying it,” she said flatly. “There’s got to be another explanation. Did you ask Morgan on Thursday?”
“I didn’t even see her, but what is she supposed to know?”
“Beats me, but I did get a text from her that Cody was going to be out of town this weekend, and she was looking for some barn helpers. I don’t know who she thoughtI’dknow. I’m surprised she didn’t ask you.”
I grabbed a fresh magazine, this one the December issue. “Where did Cody go?”
“Some show down in California. Hey, this looks good, doesn’t it?” She flipped the magazine back and held up a recipe for corn chili. “I never even liked chili until I moved here.”
“Mmm.” Cody was gone to a show? Wasn’t it too early in the season for that? I sighed, tapping my teeth with my pen.
“Don’t do that. Bad for your enamel.”
I snorted. “I don’t give you a bad time for how you ride the clutch. You shouldn’t even have a transmission left by now.”
Audrey giggled and turned her magazine over. “Good, I hate that car anyway. Oh, this is cool. There’s a reader submissions page in the back. Aw… this girl sent in a picture of her on her horse. Isn’t she cute? She’s like a peanut up there!”
