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“So, then, why not do dressage?” I asked.

“The idea of wearing a tux to dance a horse around a ring doesn’t appeal to me. No offense, but that is not my bag. I will stick to jeans, chaps, and a hat. You all can have the prestige. I will watch Piper kill it from the sidelines.”

“Very, very expensive tails,” I agreed.

“Nah. That isn’t it. Piper’s showmanship outfit was five grand.”

“For one class?” I gasped.

Maybe I missed my fashion calling!?

He nodded. “Her horsemanship outfit was three. I am telling you, showing paints can be very expensive, too. Her kit for this thing at Lamplight next week is nothing in comparison.”

“Oh, I’m so excited for her,” I said. “I am going to get off a plane and head right to the show ring. I’m headed to London, then right back to show, and then back to Paris.”

“You’re crazy.”

“It just worked out this way. I have like three jobs.”

“I lived that life at your age. Live it while you can,” Cole said.

“I know. I am calling this my wild time. I consider myself fortunate to be untethered. At some point, though, I want to settle down.”

“I don’t regret having a kid in my early thirties and living those wild years and living in the business world. What I do regret is waiting so long to fully-enjoy her childhood. That is why, as crazy as it sounds, I gladly blow 5 grand on a showmanship outfit. It’s silly, but, I love that kid. I want to give her the world.”

I smiled. “Every kid deserves the best their parents can give them. I get it.”

* * *

COLE

“Nope, drop your hands,” I said. “He won’t relax with that level of contact.”

Chloe picked up a lope on Doobs, face drawn. It was funny to watch her on a horse nearly two hands shorter than Mack going slower than ever, but losing her composure.

“He’s really supposed to do this? I’m not like hurting him?”

“Nah,” I laughed. “He’s fine.”

“I am a bag of potatoes.”

“Well, you need to relax your hands, sit back, and stop with your chicken wings,” I called.

A crowd gathered to watch Chloe ride my big show horse. She was in dressage boots with pink stripes and a coordinating pastel outfit, sitting in one of my trophy saddles—the one I kept for training since it fit Doobs. It was well-worn and looked completely out of place. She was Barbie on a cowpony—a very nice, well-groomed one.

“Lead change before the poles,” I called.

“Just like any lead change?”

“Yes,” I laughed. “It’s not like we’re speaking German. You are just riding. It’s still a horse.”

She nodded, still nervous, but complied. Doobs swished his tail a bit as he switched gears like the very good boy he was. Chloe’s face lit up as he carefully loped the poles.

“Now get to K and stop,” I said. “On a dime. I want you sitting so low and just squeezing good with your calves and heels.”

She listened, stopping him well.

“Keep going, back, back, back.”