Shelby smiles at her. “I think you might be biased.”
Ruby shrugs, clueless as to what the wordbiasedmeans.
I set her back on Shelby’s hip. My hands linger for half a second too long at Shelby’s waist when I do, and we both notice.
The air between us shifts.
Just a little.
We make our way out of the arena and back to her family, and sit shoulder to shoulder as the rest of the teams go. I can feel the heat of her through the thin denim of her dress. Her knee brushes mine when she adjusts Ruby, and the contact sends an electric jolt through me.
I clear my throat.
Royce and I end up placing second.Bestestis won by a young duo who have been training as a team for years and are just beginning their own rodeo careers. Our consolation prize is a twenty-five-dollar gift card to The Prairie Pie and a polite round of applause.
When they hand it to me, I laugh and pass it off to Royce. “Here, take Elise for pizza and a beer.”
We rejoin the group.
Matty claps me on the back. “Not bad, Ludlow.”
“Whoa, was that a compliment?” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “I would trash-talk your performance, but then I’d have to trash-talk my cousin.”
“Ah,” I say. “That makes more sense.”
The sun is dipping low now, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink. The arena lights flicker on. Music starts drifting in from the big event barn across the grounds.
Ruby yawns.
Shelby looks at me. “Someone is crashing.”
“Yeah, I should probably get her home,” I say.
I take Ruby from her and cradle her in my arms.
“You’re not staying for the hoedown?” Harleigh asks.
“Nah,” I say. “Don’t think this one is going to last. She was up early this morning to make me pancakes before the cattle drive.”
A symphony of, “Awww,” escapes the women.
I turn to Shelby. “Thanks for looking after her for me. That was fun.”
“My pleasure,” she says, handing me Ruby’s tote.
I leave the arena and head back toward the vendors in search of my mother to find that Pop finally made it. He’s off to the side of the booth in his suit and tie, talking to the town’s mayor.
“We’re heading out,” I whisper to Momma, tilting my chin to Ruby, who is passed out cold against my shoulder. “You riding with Pop?”
“Yes, we’re leaving as well,” she says.
“You’re not staying for the dance?” Imma Jean asks.
“No, ma’am. My little unicorn ran out of magic about fifteen minutes ago.”
“That’s a shame. The young ladies could use all the dance partners they can get,” she says, her eyes going to Momma’s.
