Keep our baby girl safe, Rain.
Rowan appeared beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. He didn’t say anything. His presence was a warm weight, steady as the earth beneath her boots. Enya exhaled, letting herself lean into him just for a second. Six years of this—of them—and she still wasn’t used to the way he fit against her, like the missing piece of a puzzle she hadn’t even known was incomplete.
“She’s got your stubbornness,” he murmured, his breath warm against her temple.
“And your mouth,” Enya shot back, but there was no heat in it. Just the quiet thrill of knowing he was right. Oaklynnwas all them. The perfect blend of their best and worst parts, tangled together like God had decided to issue them the child guaranteed to keep them on their toes for the rest of their days.
Across the arena, her mom stood with Gael and Joel, their faces a mix of nervous excitement. Her family had changed over the years; the sharp edges of the trauma of her ordeal had been worn smooth by time and the sheer force of Oaklynn’s personality and zest for life.
Her dad caught her eye and gave a small nod.You did good, kid.
The announcer’s voice crackled over the speakers. “Up next in our Pee-Wee Barrels, we’ve got Oaklynn Salieri on Rain, aka SHR Chasing Rainbows. Yes,thatRain, folks. You saw him take a top-three finish earlier today with this little girl’s mom on board, so give ’em a big hand, folks, and let’s see if Enya Moore’s daughter is a chip off the old block!”
Enya’s stomach twisted as the crowd erupted in cheers. She’d spent years loving the noise, the eyes, the way the world seemed to hold its breath when a rider shot out of the alley. It both thrilled and terrified her that Oaklynn thrived on the same adrenaline rush. Pride swamped her as her little girl waved like a queen on parade, her grin so bright it could’ve outshone the stadium lights.
As the buzzer sounded, Rowan’s hand found hers, his fingers threading through hers, and Rain lunged forward, his muscles bunching beneath Oaklynn’s tiny frame. Enya’s breath hitched.
Too fast. She’s going too fast.
But then Oaklynn leaned in, her body moving with the horse like they shared a heartbeat, and Enya realized their fearless five-year-old wasn’t just riding, she was racing.
“Holyshit,” Rowan breathed, “our kid is gonna give me gray hair.”
“Hate to break it to you, baby.” Enya kept her eyes on the arena. “You’ve already got gray hair.” She could only watch as her horse carried her daughter on his back and flew around the first barrel, so close Enya could’ve sworn she saw Rain’s nostril brush the metal. Oaklynn’s high and wild laughter rang out as they rounded the second, her small hands sure on the reins.
“Jeez, she’s going too fast,” Enya whispered. “She’s gotta slow down or she’ll?—”
“She’s got this,” Rowan cut in, his grip tightening around her fingers.
Enya knew she did, but God, her heart was in her mouth as Oaklynn pulled Rain up just shy of the third barrel, her timing impeccable, then urged him forward again. The crowd roared. Enya’s vision blurred as they crossed the line, and the clock stopped at seventeen ninety-eight.
Yes!
Oaklynn threw her arms up, her scream of triumph loud enough to shake the rafters. Rain pranced in place, his ears flicking back like he was laughing.
Enya’s knees nearly gave out, and Rowan’s arm wrapped around her waist, holding her up. “She did it.”
“Told you she’d kill it.”
She turned into him; her face buried against his shoulder. His shirt was damp with her tears before she even realized she was crying. “She’s five,” Enya choked out. “She’s five, and she just ran a seventeen on her first try?—”
“I know,” Rowan said, his voice rough. He pressed his lips to her temple. “I know. Fuck, baby, I’d rather be fixin’ to face fifty Taliban with only a couple of blades to my name than go through that again.” He held out his hand to show her his fingers trembled as much as hers. “This parenting thing is not for the faint of heart when you’re raising the reincarnation of Annie Oakley.”
Down in the holding pen, Oaklynn slid off Rain’s back, her helmet askew as she threw her arms around Camden’s legs. He scooped her up, spinning her around, and whooped. Enya was crying. Her mom was crying. Everyone, from her dad to her badass, hardcore warrior husband, had a tear in their eye.
Enya wiped her face with the back of her hand. “We’re never gonna live this down.”
Rowan barked out a laugh. “Nope. She’s gonna be insufferable.”
“Good.” She took a shaky breath. “She should be.”
They made their way to the holding arena, where Oaklynn was hugging Rain’s face. She spotted them and ran toward them at full speed. Enya barely had time to brace before fifty pounds of pure chaos collided with her legs.
“Mama! Daddy! Did you see?! Rain was so fast, and I told him where to go and?—”
“We saw, Sugar,” Rowan said, ruffling her curls. “We saw.”
Oaklynn wriggled free and grabbed Enya’s hand, dragging her toward Rain. The horse stood patiently, his sides heaving but his eyes bright. Enya pressed her forehead to his, her breath hitching. “Thank you for looking after my baby girl,” she murmured.
