I need to get things straightened out at home first.
“Ready, girl?” I whisper, leaning over Misty’s neck as she dances at the starting gate.
My name blares over the loud-speakers and I dig my heels into her sides.
She leaps forward with a massive burst of speed, flying towards the first barrel.
Her turn is flawless, raw power as she banks for the second turn.
“Come on, girl!” I shift in the saddle, using my weight to counter-balance into the final stretch.
Racing past the finish, I feel the buzz in my ass.
It’s quick, but a jolting reminder that he’s somewhere here.
Watching.
Scanning the crowd, I try to see if I can pick out a weird expression.
Somehow I might know it was him.
But nothing sticks out.
Trotting back towards my stall, there’s a strange man idly draping his arm over the fence near the gate.
His suit looks too fancy to be here in the barn. It’s white, matching his hat.That’d never fly on the ranch.
“Miss Sophia? My name is John. That was a mighty fine run.” He dips the broad brim towards the arena.
With an easy smile that shows bright teeth, he steps to the side to let me lead Misty into her pen.
“Thank you. I think next time I’ll be able to shave a tenth or two off that last corner.” If I had kicked my bad leg out just a little more, I know I’d have helped with her turn.
It’s one of my weak points.
“That’s what I was hoping to talk to you about. You have a lot of potential to make it. I was wondering if you’re looking for sponsors?” His hand drapes over the top rail as he watches me intensely.
“Hey, buddy.” Oliver appears from the side with a stern expression, clapping John on the shoulder.
When John glances at him, his smile drops. “Hello, again.”
“Oliver, can you give us a few moments? Please?” I plaster on my best grin, but inside I’m seething.
Why can’t he find his own sponsor?
Oliver’s palm stays on John’s arm, wrapping his elbow. “I think me and Johnny here need a quick word first.”
Before I can protest, he drags the light suited man away.
What the fuck?
Damn him! He has no right to steal my prospect.
When I get done taking this saddle off Misty, we’re going to have words.
Bad news
Oliver
