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I drop Winnie off a few hours later, after I stop myself from kissing her at least four different times over the course of our night together:
When she beats me in the ring toss and does her stupid-cute little victory dance, shaking her butt and miming the words to some as yet undetermined Taylor Swift song.
When a little girl walks up to her and asks for her autograph on a napkin, and she couldn’t stop smiling for a solid twenty minutes straight.
When she squeals and automatically reaches for my hand on the Bone Shaker, breaking all the tendons in my fingers.
And every moment in between.
I deserve a medal for my efforts.
Off the record, I’m 99 percent sure she’s interested in more than friendship between us, but also, I’m 99.9 percent sure she doesn’t actuallyknowthat.
Or maybe she does and we’re both idiots.
My house is silent when I get home, except for the rumbling snores coming from my dad’s bedroom. I creep up the stairs after dropping my rodeo bag in the laundry room to be dealt with tomorrow. My bedroom is dark and cool, and I decide against turning on the light. After spending the last two days surrounded by booming loudspeakers, flashing neon lights, and roaring crowds,the darkness and silence soothe the aftereffects of sensory overload. I change out of my jeans into a pair of old basketball shorts and switch my shirt out for something that doesn’t smell like fried food. After brushing my teeth and scrubbing the sweat off my face, I collapse into my bed without bothering with the covers. I’m pretty wired right now, but I don’t feel like Netflix or music, so instead, I pick up my phone and scroll aimlessly. Eventually, I wander to my inbox and, swallowing hard, click on an email I’d first opened this morning.
It’s an acceptance letter to Texas Tech University in the fall. Early admittance to their nursing program. Pediatric nursing, to be precise.
I’m filled with a sudden feeling of peace. Of rightness.Thisis what I want to do. I want to help kids in the hospital. To take care of them and keep them comfortable and make them laugh or let them cry or whatever they need to do that they can’t around their family and friends.
As Kerry pointed out, Texas Tech also has a rodeo team. This isn’t the end of the line. I could probably qualify for a scholarship—likely will have to once my dad hears about nursing. And as an added bonus, the campus is close enough I can come home on weekends to see Winnie or, if she needs, help with Garrett and Jesse if she’s touring. I can be around to keep them in line, so she doesn’t have to worry.
I haven’t told anyone about the acceptance. Pax and Kerry know I applied, but telling them about the acceptance makes it feel more real. And I haven’t told Winnie anything yet.
I want to tell Winnie more than anything. Of everyone, I feel like maybe she would understand. I almost told her tonight, but I couldn’t get the words past my lips. I don’t want her to think I’m a quitter. Disappointing her would be hard to comeback from, especially since I’ve decided I’m in love with her. And while I know she’s nothing like my dad, I’m not super confident leaving the masculine world of bull-riding fame for a quiet job as a male nurse is especially attractive. Especially if she’s spending all her time touring on the circuit with cocky, self-sure cowboys and I’m left back home learning how to put IVs into toddlers.
I know how toxic that sounds, and on paper, I know it shouldn’t matter. But it does. Not enough to make me change my mind, but enough that, when my guard is down, there’s this pang of awareness that keeps me from spilling the truth.
And then there’s a part of me that worries Winnie might get scared away from racing, too. Like if I left and she was on her own, she might decide she needs to stay home after all.
After yesterday, those particular fears, at least, have been put to rest. There’s no way she could walk away now. I’ll have to convince her we have her back, but we have all summer to worry about that. Three months to get her to fall in love with me and trust she can follow her dreams without the rest of us falling apart.
One summer, and I plan to make the most of it.
Twenty-FiveWINNIE
Two weeks later, I’m collecting my prize for yet another second-place finish just behind Maria and Duchess.
I accept the check with a giddy flip in my stomach and smile as the flashes of multiple cameras temporarily blind me. A photographer for a local paper motions for me to move closer to Maria, who throws a long arm around my shoulders, holding her blue ribbon nice and high.
She tsks, teasingly, through her smiling teeth. She manages to speak without moving her lips and ruining the shot. “Second place yet again, Sutton.”
I snort, keeping my own good-natured grin in place. “I don’t suppose you’re getting tired of local rodeos. Maybe you’re thinking it’s about time to move on to something more exciting… maybe out of state? I hear Oklahoma is real nice this time of year.”
She raises a sculpted brow. “You mean to tell me you’re still planning to stick around here?”
Heat floods my face as the crowd moves on and leaves usstanding alone with our winnings and horses. “Welllll,” I say. “I don’t know. You know it’s complicated with my family.”
Maria waves her hand dismissively. “You nearly caught me and Duchess tonight. Practically too close to call. You deserve to shoot your shot in bigger arenas than county fairs and livestock shows. While I don’t relish the thought of coming up against you all summer long, I’m not one to shirk a challenge, and you and Mab are the closest thing to competition I’ve had in two years.”
I don’t know what to say. Of course Camilla and Mr. Michaels and even Case have said the same thing, but it’s different coming from Maria. Like she said, we’re competitors. She doesn’t owe me anything.
Maria must suspect what she’s said has thrown me because she waves an impatient hand in the air between us as if swatting away any awkward tension. “Enough of that serious stuff. I can see I’ve given you a lot to think about, and if you do turn up on the circuit, I’m probably gonna regret all these weeks I’ve spent encouraging you.”
I snort at her rueful tone.
“You coming to my party tonight? I hold it every year, and it’s the tits.” She flits back to Duchess and fiddles with her buckles. “It’s just a bunch of rodeo kids drinking too much, dancing to terrible music, and causing a commotion out at my ranch. My parents hide next door at the neighbors’ to have plausible deniability.”
