Note to self: If I ever see this girl again, make her laugh, she’s even prettier when she’s laughing.
“Okay, Rein. Down, girl.” The red heeler hops off my back. “Sit.” She sits, staring at me, tail still wagging, tongue hanging out. “Good girl,” I tell her, scratching her behind the ear. I can’t help but notice Kacey’s jaw drop.
Wide eyed, she says, “She must like you. She never listens to anyone but me and Dad.”
A cocky smirk slides across my face. “Looks like I’ve got a new number one fan, huh, Rein?” I might not know much about life, but I know if a woman’s dog doesn’t like you, she won’t either. By the look on Kacey’s face, I’d say Rein just did me a solid.
I load my tools into the truck and put up the tailgate. “Well, if you lose another shoe, give me a call. I’ll be here for a few weeks, filling in for Jack.”
“I hope I don’t lose any more. I have a jackpot this weekend, and I need him ready to win.” She gives me a small smile, then quickly looks away.
I wonder if she’s single. . . I’m not looking for a relationship—not after my last one—but I’ll admit this girl has caught my attention. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little flirting.
She shifts on her feet. “But in that case, my dad did want me to ask you if you have time to trim some broodmares.”
“How many?” Trimming broodmares is normally as fun as getting a root canal, but I wouldn’t mind doing it so much if it means I can see her again.
“There’s eleven—”
ELEVEN? Call the dentist, I’d rather get a root canal.
“ . . .thisround. But I want to warn you, no one enjoys trimming them, not even Jack. He normally ends up with vertigo, a bad hangnail, or some other nonexistent ailment when he’s supposed to come do them.” She laughs like she’s joking, but I know she’s not.
“Dad and Grandpa always made me trim the broodmares. This week is pretty booked for me, but I can do them early next week if that works? Say Tuesday?” I hear myself say.
What is this woman? Some kind of witch? I met her twenty minutes ago and I’m agreeing to trim eleven broodmares just to see her again.
She looks surprised. I can’t blame her. No one in their right mind wants to trim eleven broodmares, but I have ulterior motives. Stupid and pointless motives that might get the shit kicked out of me by a bunch of mares, but I’ve done dumber things in my life.
I’m just glad Trey isn’t here to see this—he’d give me so much shit. I can hear him laughing, saying, “There are easier ways to get laid, dude.”
“Yeah, that’ll work, but if you don’t want to do them, I completely understand.”
She’s giving me an out. And of course I don’twantto do them, but I do want to see her again.
“I can handle a few broodmares. I’ll be back next week. Nice to meet you, Kacey.” Then I do something I know shouldn’t: I wink at her before turning on my heel and leaving.
Great. Fucking broodmares.
I stop at two more farms before heading back to Jack’s. I’m staying in the apartment above his barn while I’m here. I’ve known Jack since I was a kid. He used to try and ride bulls but lacked the natural ability, so when it didn’t pan out, he learned to shoe horses from my grandpa. He’s always moved around—he’d be in Oklahoma or Texas for a few years, then Kansas. Now, he seems to have settled in Colorado for the time being.
I walk in the back door to his kitchen without knocking and holler, “You owe me $50, old man!” The screen door slams behind me. I hear Jack before I see him—his crutches squeak against the floor as he shuffles into the room.
“What are you going on about? I ain’t givin’ you $50. You’ll just spend it on entry fees and then fall off.”
He’s not wrong, not about the entry fee part, anyway. But I don’t fall off . . . that often.
“You sent me over to The Diamond Hart Ranch to put that shoe on with no warning. Actually, with the opposite of a warning. The rancher’s ‘rough and tough daughter’ you said. She was raised by her single dad and ‘will run that ranch soon’ you said. The way you talked, I was expecting to meet Teeter fromYellowstone, but I got Bella Hadid instead.” I give him a displeased look.
He laughs. I knew it—he knows exactly what he did. Since I got here, he’s been going on about how I’m getting older and need to be thinking about my future. You know, the usual; get married, settle down, have a pack of kids, and grow old with a good woman. Ironic coming from him, considering he’s an old bachelor himself.
I tried to tell him it’s not worth the time and effort. After Megan and I broke up at the finals a few years ago, I swore off dating. Things were great when I was home, hard and confusing while I was on the road, but we made it work.
Until the National Finals.
When I didn’t ride well and lost the world title, she left me—publicly—for another national finals qualifier who placed better than me that year.
And while I wouldn’t say I was devastatingly heartbroken, it stung. I was already in a rough headspace and her betrayal sent me into a spiral. The only thing that pulled me out of it was a swift kick in the ass from Trey and my love for bull riding.
