CHAPTER ONE
KRISTIN
“God, did you see her ride?” a shrill voice called from the other side of my trailer wall. The sound was sharp enough to rattle through the thin metal, slicing into the quiet I’d been clinging to.
“She’s so ridiculous with those flashy colors and the fringe. It’s so cringy.”
Voices always echoed in the trailer area. Every breath, every insult bounced between the aluminum walls like gossip trapped in a tin can. There wasn’t any mistaking who they were talking about.
Me.
“Her cousin’s married to some big rancher from Montana. I’m sure that’s where the money’s coming from.”
“Yeah, he’s part of the Flying Diamond Five. God, what I wouldn’t have given to land one of them.”
“There’s still one available. Lincoln Felder is single.”
“Not as single as some would like to believe.”
The tone shifted. The last speaker wasn’t one of the two who’d been running me down a moment ago. Her voice was deeper, filled with a sense of satisfaction.
“Girl, you better spill,” one of the others said, a grin audible in every word.
“We’re together.” The woman said it as if it were a victory, not a lie. My breath caught. “I think he’s going to ask me to marry him. Then I’ll get my hands on that money.”
All of them laughed, high and harsh. The sound scraped down my spine like a spur.
I stared at the mirror across from me. The bright reflection of my outfit burned back at me. The wild colors, the fringe, and the shine that caught the light every time I turned —it was perfect. A little wild, a little loud. But it was mine. Nobody forgot my name at the end of the rodeo. Every little girl who pressed up against the rails wanted a picture with me. They saw more than sequins and sass; they saw possibility.
Still, the voices burrowed under my skin. The metal of the trailer made every syllable echo until it felt like they were sitting inside with me. I could almost picture their faces, the smirks, the way their lipstick creased when they laughed.
I clenched my jaw and smoothed my hands down the glittering fringe of my shirt, the nervous habit I always relied on before a run. My palms came away faintly dusty. The trailer smelled like leather, hairspray, and the faint metallic tang of dirt baked into everything I owned.
Thankfully, the voices faded down the row, swallowed by the clatter of another horse being loaded. I waited a few seconds longer before unlatching the door. The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was the kind that hummed inside your ears after too much noise.
The lot was empty when I stepped outside. Sunlight reflected off the chrome edges of trailers, bright enough to make me squint. A breeze stirred the dust around my boots. For a moment, the world felt still again.
I didn’t need those women anywhere near my head. Their words were poison, and I couldn’t afford poison right now.
“And I sure didn’t need to think about Linc getting married.” Lady lifted her head over the stall guard, ears pricked as if she’d understood every word. The late-day light caught her coat, turning it the color of polished copper.
“That’s right, he’s a slime ball,” I whispered, reaching to rub the white star on her forehead.
She snorted, a deep, rolling sound that felt like agreement.
“He never talked about marriage with me.” The words slipped out before I could swallow them. They tasted bitter. Oh, good, now I was pouting over the man I’d walked away from. Regret was a habit I didn’t have time for, but sometimes it ambushed me.
Linc had been faithful, steady, maddeningly patient. Even when we’d been “on a break,” he hadn’t seen anyone else. I knew that much. I also knew I’d been the one to run first.
Lady shifted, bumping my shoulder with her muzzle, reminding me that standing here in self-pity wasn’t helping either of us. I gave her neck a firm pat. “You’re right. Focus time.”
I reached for the saddle blanket and felt the familiar calm slide in. Leather creaked, cinches tightened, the warm smell of horse and dust anchoring me where I belonged. Lady flicked an ear, keyed up but waiting on my cue. Groom, check stirrups, tug gloves—the same routine that steadied my breath while the crowd outside built to a muffled roar, like thunder rolling in.
My heart kicked in my chest, matching that rhythm. I breathed through it.
The gossip still echoed faintly in the back of my head, the mention of his name like a bruise I couldn’t stop pressing. Lincoln Felder. The last single one, they’d said. Not as single as some would like to believe. The words stuck.
I pulled in a slow breath and forced my focus back to the horse beneath my hands. Her hide rippled when I ran my palm down her flank. Solid muscle. Steady heart. My one constant.
