Hayden, with one hand on the wheel and the other cupping my cheek, smiled. “You should be proud of yourself. You should be so damn proud, Sierra. Soak it all in because you made it.”
In reality, I’d only have about fifteen minutes to soak it all in because the minute we arrived at the hotel, it would be boots on the ground. I’d get Lucky settled first and foremost, but practice for the grand entry as well as the NFR welcome reception and back number ceremony would be that night.
Then, in addition to early morning practice runs before competing every night for ten days straight, I’d have meetings with sponsors, interviews, and autograph sessions during the day. I knew I’d hardly have time to breathe, but, for whatever reason, it didn’t make me nervous. Instead, a wave of calm washed over me.
If that scared, fourteen-year-old version of myself who didn’t know if there’d ever be an end to the pain and suffering could only see me now. I liked to think she’d be proud, too.
Purple silk so dark it almost looked black clung to my body as I waited for the back number ceremony to begin. We’d already had a red carpet-esque event where Hayden stood by me the whole time as we took hundreds of pictures.
We separated as he went into the audience, and I joined the rest of the competitors. I had no idea what to expect, but I noticed a lot of familiar faces other than the obvious ones in Colter, Reid, Jake, and Mikey.
A hand clasped down on my shoulder, and my body tensed before a low chuckle followed.
“Sorry, Sierra, didn’t mean to scare you,” Colter apologized, lifting his hand off my shoulder to scrub it across his facial hair. “Pretty incredible, isn’t it?”
This definitely wasn’t Colter Carson and Reid Lawson’s first rodeo. In fact, this was their fifth appearance at the NFR, and they’d brought home plenty of hardware in the last five years.
“I keep waiting for the moment I wake up and this was all a dream.” I laughed. “I’m sure it’ll feel more real tomorrow when I’m in the arena, but right now it just feels…surreal.”
Reid joined us next. “I remember the first time we made it and felt the same way. You worked hard to be here. Especially considering everything that happened the last few months, you deserve this.”
“Thanks, guys.” Heat creeped into my cheeks at the compliments. I wasn’t used to people acknowledging my achievements, much less being happy for me.
“Knock ’em dead out there.” Colter winked before he and Reid walked off to talk to some of the other cowboys.
From the stage, the man who was hosting the back number ceremony greeted the crowd. “Welcome to Las Vegas, everybody! It’s time to kick off this year’s Wrangler NFR!”
A video played, and then they were calling up the top fifteen bareback bronc riders in the world. Each eventwould be called one by one, with barrel racing being second to last, right before bull riding.
“It’s time to announce your top fifteen barrel racers in the world!”
In a single file line, all of the barrel racers walked down the runway toward the stage. Cameras flashed from the audience, and people held out their hands to high five some of the girls. We lined up on the side of the stage, and the number fifteen barrel racer was announced.
Then it was my turn.
“She’s a cowgirl from Montana, and she’s come all the way to Las Vegas for her first ever NFR! Back number one-oh-seven, Sierra Bayley!”
A smile so wide I was sure my cheeks would ache later spread across my face as I received my back number and walked to the center of the stage. Spotlights shone on me and cameras flashed as I waved to the crowd then walked down the runway.
“Looking good, Skip.” Keenan and Hayden met me after I grabbed all the gifts competitors would receive from sponsors, including my official NFR jacket.
“Thanks, Kee. This will be you guys next year.” I ruffled the hair on Keenan’s head, but threw him a death glare when he reached to touch mine. “Ah-ah,” I tutted. “Don’t mess up my hair, Chase.”
“That’s not fair! Why do you get to mess up mine?” He pouted.
Hayden laughed. “Because you’re not the one who’s about to have a hundred more pictures taken of her.”
“So, what do you want to do to celebrate tonight?” Keenan nudged me with his elbow as we walked.
“Sleep?” I laughed, which turned into a yawn. I’d been going since six this morning.
“Skippy,” he whined. “You’rekilling me. Come out for one drink at least. Please?” He pouted his lips and gave me puppy dog eyes.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. One drink. Then I’m getting a jumbo slice of pizza and going to bed.”
“That’s the spirit! Look at us. Hazey, Skippy, and Kee back together again in Sin City. I could be a poet. Or a rapper.” He nodded as he chuckled to himself.
Hayden and I raised our brows at each other before letting collective snorts at his antics.
