“She’ll be okay. It’s just growing pains. And female emotions.”
He nods. “God help me.”
“You’d better hope so.”
He smiles, and I watch as this big, rugged cowboy gently secures his tiny girl into her car seat. Whispering sweetly and patiently as she whines. Then he brushes her hair from her face and kisses her forehead before shutting her in.
And I swear it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
He waves as they drive away, dust curling behind them.
What a weird damn day.
I’m in the arena with Becky, a competitive barrel racer training for WPRA Mountain State Circuits Finals. The sun spills across the dirt. Dust hanging in the air like glitter.
“That’s it, Becks. Keep control. Straight lines and tight turns are going to beat wild speed every time.”
She runs the cloverleaf pattern again as I time her.
“Sixteen point four.” I’m leaning on the rail, clapping, when my phone buzzes in my back pocket for the third time in two minutes.
I fish it out, see it’s Harleigh’s number, ignore it, and shove the phone back into my pocket. I’ll call her back later.
Then I hear it.
“I could be dead on the side of the road, you know.”
I spin around so fast that I nearly trip over my own feet.
Harleigh’s standing just outside the gate, sunglasses perched on her head, overnight bag slung over one shoulder. She’s wearing her college uniform—dark jeans, University of Wyoming sweatshirt, sneakers, and a wide smile.
“Dead people don’t make calls,” I reply as I hop down and hurry over to throw my arms around her.
“Geezus, Shell,” she says, hugging me back.
I pull back, scowling at her even though my eyes burn. “What are you doing home?”
She arches a brow. “Hello to you too.”
“Hello, sis,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Seriously, I didn’t think we’d see you until Thanksgiving.”
“It’s just a long weekend. I have to be back Monday night.” She looks past me, taking in the arena, Becky perched proudly on her bay. Then she looks back at me, expression softening.
“Did you tell anyone you were coming?”
“Yeah,” she says. “Charli and Grandma know.”
Becky finishes her last pattern and walks her horse to the gate.
“Sorry, Becks.” I smile. “This is my sister Harleigh. She surprised me.”
“That’s okay. I think Bonney has had enough for today.”
“You did great. Shaved a half second off,” I praise.
“Oh, nice,” Harleigh adds, giving Becky a wink.
“Thanks.”
