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“Argh. You’re both so stubborn.”

Racing legend Mary Beth Wilson agreed to train Micah, while Jolene Baxter trained Liv. No one Liv had spoken to thought forty too old to start barrel racing. Jolene had won nine world title championships in her career, the last at fifty-eight—and barrel racing didn’t have age classifications. Jolene competed against eighteen-year-olds, twenty-six-year-olds, fifty-year-olds and everything in between.

“There’s a lot more to barrel racing than people think,” Jolene told her. “It’s all about making sure you have control of the horse’s poll, neck, shoulder, barrel, and hind end. You’re a solid rider. What you need to do now is be a sponge. Squeeze every bit of knowledge you can out of the horse you’re gonna train on. Then shower it on Micah when he’s ready.”

Liv and Micah started training and when they did, Liv tried her hardest to put everything and everyone else, out of her head.

It wasn’t easy, when every night, she dreamed about being with Ben.

“No, no, no,” Jolene yelled at Liv. “You’re not focusing. You need to blast home. Micah knows it. Where is your self-confidence today? Come on, do it again.”

“Whaddaya think?” Mary Beth asked Jolene.

“She’s got it in her. There are days she just doesn’t believe in herself. She knows that horse, no question about it, and they have a strong connection. It’s her head that’s giving her trouble. I wanna get her in the game.”

“You think she’s ready?”

“Yes, I do, and this’ll show her. That’s the only piece she’s missing—enough confidence in herself. She’s almost all the way there, and then somethin’ makes her get back in her head.”

“I’ll get her into Woodward. The people are friendly and it has real good ground condition.”

“Yep, that’ll be the perfect start for our Livvie.” Bill Patterson drove down the day before with Dottie to check on Liv’s progress, and was eavesdropping on Jolene and Mary Beth’s conversation.

He was astounded by what he saw when he watched Liv, enough that he’d wager anyone who would take the bet that she’d finish in the top three at the Woodward rodeo, and then she’d be in the money.

He’d known Jolene Baxter almost all his life. Dottie had been a bridesmaid in Jolene’s wedding to Larry, who was the best farrier Bill knew. Dottie did good getting their girl set up with these folks.

“What’s goin’ on in that sweet head of yours, darlin’ girl?” Dottie asked as Liv walked Micah.

“I dunno. Not on my game today I guess. I’m missin’ Renie. And Paige texted. Too many distractions.”

“I hope you aren’t countin’ Bill and me as a distraction. I’d hate for us to be the reason you can’t get your focus.”

“No, not you and Bill, not ever. I don’t know how to thank you for this, Dottie. It’s because of you that I’m doin’ this.”

“No, it’s not. It’s because of you that you’re doin’ this and don’t you ever forget it.”

“A little bird told me that Livvie is competin’ in her first rodeo this weekend,” said Bill, joining them.

“Bill Patterson, are you tellin’ the truth? Our Livvie is gonna be barrel racin’ in a rodeo this weekend?”

Liv bent over with her hands on her knees, and took in a deep breath. When she stood up her hat flew into the air. She let out the loudest woohoo Dottie had ever heard out of a girl.

“Micah, did you hear that?” She nuzzled up against him. “We’re ready, boy.”

She wished Renie would come this weekend to see her mom in her first barrel race, but she’d be too busy get

ting ready to go back to school in two weeks.

Oh, the hell with that, thought Liv. Her first barrel race—Renie damn well better come down for it.

She wished Ben could come too, but he was the reason she lost her focus today. She dreamt about him last night, and this morning she couldn’t get him off her mind. Dreaming about him wasn’t unusual, she did almost every night. Last night was different, though. She and Ben were having sex, and the dream was so vivid, she swore he was in the room with her when she woke up, sweating.

She missed him more than she thought possible, but asking him to come to her first rodeo would go against what they’d promised each other. Ben’s focus was on the band, her focus was on barrel-racing. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them if one pressured the other to put their dreams second.

It had been two months and twenty-eight days since she last saw him. She counted the hours too. He was on tour now, and the photos she saw on social media were amazing. He looked good, sexy as ever, with that smile that made her knees weak. As much as she’d tried to tell herself she didn’t love him, she did. They hadn’t said the words, but she’d always love him, and she knew he loved her. She only hoped their combined love was strong enough to carry them through to a time they could be together without either of them sacrificing their own life.

Ben wanted to kill Paige Cochran.

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