Chapter Nine
Nine
Quinn
I always thought it was a cliché when I heard someone say the shower would wash away every bad thing from the day—or in my case, the weekend—but there I was, in my shower, standing under the hot stream of water, trying to let it do exactly that.
The weekend was a disaster to say the least. The stables I had booked for Hook and Charming the first night only booked me to have one horse, and since they didn’t have an extra stall, I had to beg for them to let my boys share.
Then the hotel was expecting me the following night, so I ended up sleeping in my truck—which is not set up for camping—and I came in last on my first ride.
During Saturday’s adventure, Charming and I pulled a seventeen point nine, bringing home a small check, but then I had a no score, knocking down all three barrels, on the third run.
And who just happened to be there at that ride…
My mother.
With her current Miss Rodeo Montana, Kelly Fugal.
Of course, she was there the time I landed a no score.
She came up to me with a large smile on her face, wrapping me in her arms as gingerly as she could so as not to mess up her hair, congratulating me on a ‘good try.’ She asked about Alpine Crest—as she still called it—and how she just wished I could come home once in a while.
And then she placed her hand on her queen’s shoulder and walked away from me.
I stood, forcing the tears not to well in my eyes, as I held onto Hook’s reins as tight as I’ve ever held them.
I loaded both horses in the trailer, got them settled in the stables—each having their own stall this time—and went to my hotel.
I canceled my Sunday ride, canceled the boarding and hotel reservations.
Then I popped in my headphones and watched my favorite episode of Once Upon a Time as I burrowed myself in the sheets, happy with myself in that the tears I kept in never fell.
I slept in, went and ate brunch at a local café, and then drove—only to hit traffic on the way home.
Pulling into Hartwell Hills, of course, the first person I saw after a monstrous weekend was Wyatt. I just wanted to get my horses in the stable and climb into my own bed. Not get confronted. So—I did just that.
And now the shower would wash it all away.
I knew I could do this; I did it last year, so why was this time a complete disaster?
How did I manage to set myself up for failure?
I messed up booking two stalls, I messed up the hotel confirmation, I knocked down a total of three barrels—in one ride—and managed to barely keep myself together after seeing my mom.
How. The. Hell, did I manage all of that in a span of three days?
And why wasn’t the shower working?
Turning off the boiling hot water, I dressed and made myself a cup of tea.
Curling up on the couch, I instantly turned on a comfort show.
Shockingly—Once Upon a Time. Nothing would ever create the same calm that Captain Hook did, telling Emma he loved her for the millionth time.
I wasn’t even a crazy romantic, but there was something about their relationship that had me glued to the screen the minute they came together.
The moment the title hit, my mind slowed down.
Same with the night before at the hotel—if it wasn’t for this show and becoming one with my bed, I most likely would have broken down.
A large part of me was saying I needed to double-check all my bookings for the next leg to make sure I didn’t make the same mistakes again.
Five rodeos in seven days, I have two ‘rest’ or travel days—which now that I think of it might help.
It wasn’t going to be travel, rodeo, travel, rodeo the entire seven days.
I had seen other racers and cowboys compete twice in one day, and I figured with two horses, it was a no-brainer—I could, too.
I knew I could do it—but right now…in the exact moment in time…
I needed to not do it and just…relax. If only…
The heavy vibration of my phone, still shoved into my bag by the front door, made it hard to relax. With a groan, I retrieved it, not bothering to unlock it before I plopped back on the couch. A text from Cash.
Cash
You’re home?
Me
Saw me drive up, huh?
Cash
No. Wyatt texted me. Said you looked frustrated. All ok?
I dropped my phone in my lap, my head falling back on the couch cushions. I inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my lips, then raised the phone.
Me
I'm fine. Just a bad few runs.
Cash
I say this with love, but I don’t want to see you at the stable tomorrow. We got your horses. Rest and take the day. Restock your fridge and don’t think about rodeos. Recharge.
I was tempted to give him the saluting emoji, my go-to emoji when he gave me a task, even if that task was to not do anything at all. Instead, I simply replied.
Me
I’m fine. Talk later, ok. Thanks, Cash.
Cash
*Saluting Emoji* Sleep well, Quinn.
I gave the screen a soft smile. Even if Cash couldn’t see it, I hoped he knew it was there. Locking it, I tossed it to the other side of the couch, curling back up with my tea. The phone vibrated again a few minutes later, lighting up. I looked at it and heaved a sigh when I saw whose calling. Mom.
I let it go to voicemail.
Despite what Cash ordered, I headed to the stables the following afternoon.
I had slept semi-decently—albeit on the couch—but woke with the determination to shove the bad weekend behind me.
The only way to do that was to move forward.
But before I dug into the logistics of it all, I went to where my heart would be happy, where—following Cash’s orders—I could recharge. And that was with my boys.
The stables were quiet when I arrived, with only a few ranch hands and Cash prepping the arena for a client.
With him distracted, I went straight to Hook and Charming.
Charming was pulling fresh hay from the bag, and Hook was standing with his head down, his tail flicking back and forth.
Opening the tack, I grabbed a few finishing brushes, planning to make both my boys shine, starting with Hook.
“Hey, mister,” I cooed, stepping inside his stall, only to come in contact with a pair of legs.
I tripped forward, surprisingly catching my balance before I ran headfirst into my horse’s stomach, losing my grip on the brushes.
I placed my hand on Hook’s coat and looked at the source of my fall. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Hiding,” Wyatt answered. He was sitting on the floor of Hook’s stall, his back up against the wood wall, his legs outstretched in front of him, ankles crossed. His baseball hat was backwards, and a large mud stain was splashed across his chest.
“Hiding?” I parroted. “In my horse's stall?”
“I just finished cleaning it.” He gestured to the pitchfork leaning up against him. “I figured I’d take a quick break before moving on to the next.”
I bent, grabbing the brushes I had dropped, before shooting him another glare.
“And the best place for a break is my horse’s stall? To hide?”
“It’s quiet in here,” was his response.
I huffed. He was soaking up the exact thing I wanted. I blinked at him before turning back to Hook, raising the brush to his coat. He raised his head and nudged me with his nose, a sweet hello.
“Are you just going to sit there while I brush him?” I asked, my back to Wyatt.
He inhaled. “Can I?”
I spun, meeting his gaze, his baby blue eyes fixed on me. He didn’t even blink; he just stared at me, holding me down with his sincere question.
“You just want to sit there?”
He gave me a crooked smile. “Yeah.”
I took a deep breath, still holding eye contact, deciding it wasn’t worth the fight or annoyance. “I guess that’s ok.”
“Thanks,” he said, twisting his hat forward to lean his head on the wall with a thump. “How was it this weekend? Hook looked ragged; you must have really worked him. How did you do?”
I paused, not sure how I wanted to answer.
I still had so many things to go over to figure out what I did wrong, so many logistics to comb through.
I could ask Cash. Even though he had stopped coming with me, he booked and planned all the things last year.
I simply showed up. Maybe that was my first mistake—thinking I could actually do it.
Nope. I told myself. You can do this.
“Couldn’t have been better.” I finally answered, settling on the vague answer.
I walked to Hook’s shoulder, catching Wyatt nodding from the corner of my eye.
“You seemed upset last night.” His voice slowed, almost as if he were choosing his words wisely.
I heaved a sigh. “It was just a hard weekend. Next week will be better.”
“I’m sure it will.”
“It will,” I agreed with him. “I made a few mistakes, but I won’t be making them again.” I looked over at him, noticing the way his eyebrows pinched.
“Made a few mistakes? You mean, you knocked over a few barrels?”
“Oh, what?” I tilted my head and let my hair fall. “Did you watch it on the Cowboy Channel?”
He gave a soft laugh. “No, I didn’t. Just guessing by the way you came home last night.”
“I was tired. It was a long drive.”
“What happened?” His voice was soft, calming almost. The same chill flowed through my body with the way he spoke that did when fictional characters declared their love for each other. It was uneasy, yet completely comforting.
I pursed my lips and dropped my arms to my side, then began.
“I messed up the reservation at the stables, and they almost wouldn’t let my horses share a stall.
I thought I booked a hotel, but I got the days mixed up and ended up sleeping in my truck.
I came in last, knocked over barrels, saw my mom—you know…
” I took another deep breath, not believing I just mentioned my mom in front of Wyatt.
I tensed and forced myself to continue. “All the normal things.”
“You messed up reservations? Stable and hotel? How?”
My shoulders relaxed, and the fact that that was what he chose to ask me about changed my entire demeanor. I wasn’t exactly sure what I would do if he asked about my mom.
“I just mixed up the days while I was booking, an honest mistake. And I swear I booked two stalls, but…I guess I didn’t.
It was just the one place, though.” I ducked under Hook’s neck, giving him a soft caress.
“They let them stay in the one stall, but they upped my price and made me sign a waiver in case anything happened that they wouldn’t be responsible. ”
“Make sense. But—did you just overbook yourself, so…it slipped your mind?”
I shrugged my shoulder. “Cash did this for me last year. He finalized everything. I guess I was overconfident.” I sighed, looking over at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but I pointed at him. “Don’t say anything. Mistakes happen. I just can’t let them take over.”
“Mistakes do happen, but you don’t have to do this alone, you know.
I’m sure Cash would still help you book things, at least until you get the hang of it.
Hell, I can help.” He stood, dusting off his jeans and his palms. “But I gotta ask, why travel with both horses. You did last year, too, right? I know seasoned riders travel with two or more, but this is only your second year—why take both?”
“It’s…” I looked at the gelding in front of me.
Hook was fast, he was energetic, and he was a spitfire who got the best scores.
Then I turned to Charming in his own stall.
He was calm, he was precise, he was everything Hook wasn’t all wrapped into one package.
I had to have both of them. “It’s important to me.
I can read the arena and get a good feel as to who will perform better.
The louder the crowd, the more Hook gets pumped.
He runs faster, he performs. The smaller the rodeo, Charming’s my man.
They are my heart and soul, and it’s really important to me they both come.
I need them.” Looking back to Hook, I scratched behind his ears, and he let out a soft groan.
“Who were you riding when you knocked over the barrels?” Wyatt asked.
Twisting my lips, I responded, “Hook. I made the wrong call.”
“No, I wouldn’t say that. I haven’t really seen you ‘make a wrong call’ since you got here.” He air-quoted right before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, except not going out with me, but that’s beside the point.”
“Really, Wyatt?” I raised a brow and shot him a glare.
“Come on.” He cocked a devilish grin. “Just trying to make you smile.”
I shook my head, actually feeling a smile tug at my lips. I tightened them, keeping that particular emotion down.
Wyatt cleared his throat. “What’s your next step? You have more events this weekend, right?”
I nodded. “I’ll be gone for seven days, five rodeos.”
“And everything is booked?”
“I hope. I’m going to double-check as soon as I’m done here.
” I answered, my hand gliding down Hook’s back.
I’m not sure why I felt compelled to talk, why I felt comfortable with Wyatt, but I swallowed and said, “What if I can’t do it?
What if I am overconfident? What if I make the wrong call again and again and ruin my shot?
You have no idea how much this means to me. I can’t mess up again.”
Wyatt’s eyes grew hooded, his chin dipping as he looked at me, his contact not once faltering. He inhaled, a deep, slow breath. “You won’t but—”
“But?” I stopped him.
“No, it’s not a bad but.” He chuckled. “There’s no harm in having someone there to root for you and hype you up and take care of things when you can’t.”
“And who’s that? My mom? My dad?” I laughed at the thought. “Cash?”
“I can come. I can help. Truly Quinn, this isn’t about me chasing bunnies like you seem to think I do.
I want to help. No more mess-ups. No more fallen barrels.
I know you can do this; I’ve seen the determination.
Not many women can say no to me, but you’ve managed to shoot me down several times, and that takes more determination than barrel racing—”
“Wyatt,” I sighed, raising my head in exasperation.
“I’m kidding,” he laughed. “Well, about you shooting me down, but not about coming with you. I can help. I can take care of the horses, I can cheer from the stands, I can make sure your horses get two stalls and you’re sleeping in a bed and not your truck.
” He met my gaze, taking a step back from me, not forward.
“Think about it at least. If you want help looking over your schedule tonight, I can help there, too. I’ve helped Rhett plenty of times. ”
“You’re serious?” He couldn’t be serious.
He twisted his lips in a smile, his blue eyes beaming. “Think about it and let me know. I’ll let you have time with your boys.”
With that, he left the stall.
My mind was buzzing. Would it really be bad to have him with me?