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“Here you are! I shoulda known you’d be hiding away in a corner. I half expected you to ditch me completely.” It’s Maria. Over my shoulder, I glimpse voluminous dark curls and sequin detailing on the bright pink blouse I helped her pick. She’s astride Duchess, a lovely painted mare who, even after several introductions, eyes up Mab as though she’s also sizing up the competition.
I stop compulsively grooming Mab.
“I considered it, believe me. Case talked me off the ledge.” I swallow and straighten my shoulders. It’s okay to be confident. Maria said competing in rodeo is all about swagger.Don’t let them see your fear, she told me. “It’s just a case of first-race jitters,” I admit. “Mab’s unbeatable. This ain’t new; the location’s just changed.”
Maria’s eyes widen, impressed. “Fighting words. I love it. Don’t let Duchess hear you talking smack.”
I let Mab’s reins drop for a moment and reach over to stroke Duchess’s caramel coat. “I’m sorry, Duchess. You know I love you.” A little louder, I say, “Second place ain’t nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Oooh, Santos, looks like you’ve stumbled on a rookie,” another voice singsongs.
I lift the brim of my hat, and recognition passes over Christine Reynolds’s face. She smirks, but not in a friendly way. I lower my brim again, though I can still see her fine, unfortunately.
“Winnie Sutton, is that you? My mistake.” She looks to Maria. “Does she work for you?”
“Hey, Christine,” I say to my former classmate. “I didn’t know you rode.” Or if I did, I forgot.
Christine is effortlessly pretty and has the cowgirl aestheticdown to a tee. If you typed “girl from a country song” into the search box on Instagram, you’d be flooded with a thousand girls who look like Christine Reynolds.
Not that I’ve done that. Specifically. But when I was shopping for my new competition wardrobe, I may have researched a little to try to fit in.
Something I doubt Christine has ever had to do in her entire life.
My former classmate flips a long blond ponytail over her shoulder. “I don’t ride. I race. And I win. I didn’t even know you had a horse,” she snips, all pretense gone.
My face burns. I swallow and shift back toward Mab, reaching for her shoulder and finding her steady heartbeat underneath her coat. I take comfort from her calm. “Technically, I don’t. But Mab’s adopted me, and she has a need for speed, so”—I shrug—“here we are.”
“Does that patch on the back of your shirt say CBM Ranch?”
“Yeah,” I say, bemused. “I work there.”
“And they’re sponsoring you? I didn’t know the Michaels brothers were so into charity.”
Maria gasps above us and dismounts. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Christine, don’t you have somewhere else to be? Like, anywhere but here? They’ll be calling your name soon.”
Christine narrows her eyes and turns on her heel, marching back to her horse.
Maria watches her leave with a furrow in her brows. “Reynolds is plenty competitive, but that was something else. What’d you do to her?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. We’ve never, ever spoken before today. We went to the same high school, but ran in different crowds.” As in Christinehada crowd and I didn’t.
“Hmm.” Maria looks uncomfortable. “I have a theory, but I don’t love it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You remember a few months back when Case was doing his whole ‘sad-sap fuckboy thing’?”
“Vaguely.” I mean, I’d guessed.
“I heard a rumor Christine and Case… you know.”
Now I’m really red. “Oh. Well, what’s that got to do with me? I’m guessing they had a bad breakup?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that. Case didn’t do commitment. That part I know for sure. It was his deal. One time and that’s it.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah, but you know he’s not like that anymore, right?”
