1. Break
Break
Willa
Three days later…
A pure state of angst is what I am in tonight. We have been planning this night out for the last eight months, even before my life turned a 180 six months ago. A situation where one might say, “when you fall off a horse, you get back on.” In the most literal sense, as well as in girl, you need to get your shit together . Life handed you a tough break, but move on at this point. I am excited to be with my ladies tonight, hanging out at the stock live show and concert tonight because my man, Ryan Bingham, is performing. Essential urban country artist that wrenches one's soul with his songs. Not to mention that whiskey voice and rustic rough look of a cowboy. Other than that excitement; I am most definitely sick to my stomach because the last time I was there, my whole life trajectory changed.
I knew I should not have pushed Doc Holiday as hard as I did, being that he was only coming off a sprained ankle that was cleared three weeks prior by my vet. Hell, who am I kidding; that horse of mine is more competitive than any human I know in this sport. He loves nothing more than to high-tail out through the arena, rounding those barrels at the speed of lighting and taking home the win for all the extra attention. For the last four years, that is exactly what he has done. What we have done. This time felt no different until it all changed. He and I were coming around the last third barrel of our second run of the day, giving it our all, when I heard it before I even felt what came after. What came after was Doc falling to his left side, landing on my leg and crushing it underneath him, but not before the barrel met the side of my head before going down. It all transpired so fast. I still can’t believe it happened the way it did when I re-watch the video.
Luckily for Doc and me, it was a clean break in his leg, so after surgery that cost me all my savings, he is still around. He may never compete in barrel racing again, but he is such a lovely companion that I am not ready to part with. I also figure he will be my new lesson horse around the ranch. For me, I am told how lucky I am that it was not worse, and that I am able to walk as well as I do. My boot protected my foot pretty well, but I was left with a hip fracture from the fall, heavy bruising all the way down my left leg with a break in my fibula. So after my surgery that I am still paying for, money has been tight. My parents have tried to help, but they are blue-collar workers just trying to stay afloat in this economy and run a dude ranch. My mama is also an English teacher where I also work, so my pa handles most of the ranch work himself, along with my older brother, Dirks.
Also, let me include that my now ex-boyfriend could not handle the pressure of being by my side with having his own rodeo life to live. He took off after a month. Leaving me to deal with rent and bills on my own. Last I heard, he was screwing some buckle bunny from Reno. One of the sexiest cowboys around these parts, so I guess I was blessed that he took me to his bed, for the last year. Insert eye-roll here. At least, that is what his classy self told me before he walked out on me.
“Now, Willa, you will always be my “first” second love to my ol’ girl Dolly out there, but we should have known our time was goin’ to run out. Maybe this accident of yours was a blessin’ because now we can both walk away guilt free. Okay…bad choice of words, since you are not walkin’, but you know what I mean. Shit, my Willa-bee. This is hard. But you also should know you were the only girl I shared my bed with over our time together, so that should count for somethin’... Alright, well I need to be goin’, as we head up to Houston for the next leg of the tour. Goin’ to miss you not bein’ there and doin’ your thing and showin’ you off. But hey, I’ll keep in touch. Bye, Willa.”
With a kiss on the cheek, Luke was gone. Gone with any sense of security I thought I had, my new horse trailer and at the time, I thought my heart. Now my heart just has a few more dents and still pretty pissed about my horse trailer. So needless to say, heading back to the scene of the accident already has my pulse racing and making me pre-game drink.
“Wil! Did you save any shots for any of us?” Tilly shouts at me as she barges into my small cabin, seeing the bottle of whiskey half-empty.
Placing another bottle on the counter, I grin. “Yep, saved a whole bottle for y’all to share.”
Tilly has been my best friend since the age of four, when I kicked some little boy's ass for putting mud in her hair. That little boy has grown up to be even more of a pain in my ass than I could have ever imagined. Lana and Amity have been our sidekicks since high school. Tilly and I went to UT on rodeo scholarships, where Amity went to OSU on her scholarship, and Lana completely surprised all of us by deciding not to go to college at all, but became a vet tech. She is probably the one that has the most control of her life at the moment and is engaged to a great guy she met out in Seguin. Tilly graduated with her marketing degree and now works for her dad's marketing firm as one of the managers and barely dabbles in rodeo unless she is helping me. Amity got her degree in agriculture, and after helping with her parents' ranch for a year, she somehow found her way to becoming an AG professor at the local community college.
Me, on the other hand; I received my degree in sports management, and now I am the physical education teacher at my local high school and assistant coach to my old rodeo coach, Coach Meader. All this, while still competing on the weekends for the rodeo grand championship. Well, at least up until six months ago. Since everything transpired six months ago, I have not even ridden a horse. With my luck, the accident happened right when school was starting back. So I was pretty banged up and healing when school started back, but Coach Meader has been a doll about me coaching from the sidelines and not from a horse. This is where I need to get my shit together.
Coach needs me on my horse, on any horse, to help train. Our ladies have a complete lack of luster without me showing them out. They need it to be pushed, to train from the best and ride with the best. That is supposed to be me. Me to help them uphold the state championship title in barrel racing, cutting, pole bending, and team roping. The high school hasn’t won a National title in any of those since Tilly and I, and that was three years in a row. Now it has been seven years, and the title is long overdue.
I hear, “1, 2, 3, shot!” That pulls me from my thoughts. Only to look over to see my three ride and dies playing a drinking game. I join for a few rounds, enough to make me feel even more tipsy. Hence why we have an uber on its way. The first night in a long time, I am letting loose and going to enjoy myself as much as it may kill my liver. There is always tomorrow, and if my hangover is not beating me down, I can try to get back up on that horse.