Chapter 19
Knox
I’m pulling away from my last shoeing appointment for the day and I can’t stop thinking about her.
I haven’t kissed Kacey again, and she hasn’t brought it up.
I’m trying to be patient. I thought after that kiss, we would turn a corner, and she’d start opening up to me more.
And while she isn’t keeping her distance from me, she’s still holding her thoughts just out of reach.
Meanwhile, I can’t stop replaying that kiss in my head.
I’ve never felt a connection to someone like that before, and I know she felt it too.
The way her body responded to mine. If someone hadn’t pulled up to the barn, I don’t know far we would’ve gone. I’m not sure either one of us could’ve stopped it. The tension between us has been stretched to the limit for weeks, and we’re going to snap. It’s only a matter of time.
Today is the open rodeo where I’m roping with Cody.
Jack got his cast removed last week and is back to work.
so tomorrow, I’ll head back to Oklahoma before the summer run starts this coming weekend.
If Kacey’s going to let me in and try to keep whatever it is we’re doing going over the summer, she’s going to have to do it soon.
I see the rest of the crew pull into the rodeo grounds right behind me.
We all had work to do this morning, so I’m meeting them here and we only have fifteen minutes before the event starts.
I climb out of my truck and look around.
The arena is set up like most rodeo arenas.
Your bucking chutes are on one end with back pens for rough stock; on the other end of the arena are your roping boxes and roping steers.
The smell of horses, cattle, and fair food float through the air. It doesn’t get much better than a rodeo in my book. No matter how big or small, for a few hours, it’s always the best place in the world.
I walk over to the truck and trailer right as the back door to the truck opens and I hear, “All I’m saying is you sound a little insecure about your masculinity. There is nothing wrong with men barrel racing, but if you can’t handle it just say so, it’s okay.” This, of course, comes from Jessie.
Kacey climbs out next, followed by a very annoyed-looking Chet.
“I am not signing up for barrel racing and it has nothing to do with my masculinity,” he grumbles.
Cody gets out of the driver’s seat and Carson comes around the front of the truck. They’re pouring out of this thing like it’s a clown car and with Jessie in it, it just might be.
“Fun ride to town?” I ask no one in particular. Four heads turn to glare at me while one just has a smirk on her face.
“Before Chet, she wanted me to barrel race. Watch yourself, she’s on one today,” Kacey says as she heads for the mid tack on the trailer. Carson passes me without a glance, heading to unload the horses.
Jessie, who apparently came today solely for the purpose of causing mayhem, turns to me. “Hey, bull rider, I hear they’re doing a wild cow milking today. I’ll go get you, Carson, and Chet signed up.”
It’s official, this woman is insane. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, there will be no wild cow milking for me. I ride the beef, I don’t milk it.”
Wild cow milking is an event with teams made of three people.
There are haltered wild cows loaded in the bucking chutes, every team already holding onto a long lead when all the cows are released at once.
Two guys try to hold the cow still while one guy milks the cow and runs the milk across the finish line.
Fastest team wins. It might not sound too hard, but it’s normally a complete shit show of people getting kicked, stomped on, and run over.
Often only one or two teams get their cow milked.
People don’t watch it for the milking; they watch it for the wrecks.
Cody sighs loudly as he walks by. “Jessie, he doesn’t want to get hurt before the summer run starts and unless you plan on filling in for Carson or Chet on the ranch, they won’t be milking anything, either.
” He gives her a firm paternal look. “Why don’t you go find Lainey and get some coffee?
We’ll meet up with you after the team roping,” he instructs.
She lets out a dramatic huff. “You guys are no fun. But I don’t ranch, so I guess I’ll go find the coffee.
I could use an energy boost, and I know she keeps some Bailey’s in the back.
” Jessie skips off toward the stands on the other side of the arena.
Her long red hair flicking behind her in the sun, like a waterfall of flames.
Carson ties the last horse to the trailer and turns to Cody. “Good job, the last thing that tornado needs is more caffeine.”
“You want to milk a cow? I can call her back,” Cody says as he starts to saddle his horse.
I get to work saddling the dun I’m borrowing.
Once we’re saddled, we head for the warmup pen.
I can hear Cody Johnson's “Where Cowboys Are King” playing over the sea of cowboy hats.
Everyone is laughing and having a good time.
It seems like the Hart crew knows every single person here.
After shoeing horses around here for six weeks, I even know a few.
The Diamond Hart Ranch and Cottonwood Valley have started to feel like home without even realizing it.
Spending time at the ranch every day, meeting the locals, and participating in community events feels good.
This isn’t something I’ve ever really felt back in Oklahoma.
Outside of my family and the few rodeo friends I have, I don’t have any strong ties to a community.
We’re stopped by a dozen people to talk before we finally get warmed up for the team roping. As we head for the boxes I ride up next to Kacey.
“Hey, how about we make this a little more interesting? Care for a wager?”
She turns in her saddle, her blonde braid flipping behind her. She has a gleam in her eye when she grins at me. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Three questions, three honest answers. No half answers and no passing on a question.”
“Alright, you’re on. You’re going to lose though you know that, right?
You and Dad have roped together twice, Carson and I do this all the time.
” She sounds confident, but I can tell by her face she’s taking this seriously.
I’ve done my share of heading and Cody is just as good of a heeler as Kacey.
She watched us practice last week—we have a real shot at beating them if we have a good steer.
“May the best roper win,” I say with a smirk and a wink I know will turn her face red.
Kacey and Carson are up first. Cody and I watch, sitting on our horses, as she backs into the box, more focused than I’ve ever seen her.
She really doesn’t want to lose. Carson calls for the steer and gets out clean, takes three swings and catches both horns.
Kacey is right on its heels when Carson turns the steer.
She swings and catches both hind legs. They pull their ropes tight, and the clock stops at 5. 3 seconds.
That’s a damn good time. I turn to Cody. “No pressure or anything, but I would really like to beat them. How does five seconds flat sound to you?”
Cody laughs loudly and replies. “I like the way you think.”
Kacey and Carson trot back to us, and before she even gets into ear shot, I can tell by the look on her face that she has something smart-mouthed to say.
“Well, boys, second place is all yours if you want it,” she says confidently.
I like this version of her. I still want to beat her, and I will, but I like seeing her in her element.
Carson is wearing a bigger smile than I’ve ever seen. Smug bastard.
I look at Kacey. “We’ll see about that. I have old age on my side.”
“Hey!” Cody exclaims, feigning offense.
“I mean experience, it’s a compliment.” Everyone chuckles as Cody and I head for the box.
Over the last week, I spent time with Cody getting ready to rope. I have a lot of respect for him and what he’s built at the ranch. He shared with me how he had to think outside of the box and build other streams of income to keep the ranch going. I can see where Kacey gets her critical thinking.
I never talk to my dad, so it was nice to spend some time with Cody and discuss life.
He asked a lot about my career goals, and life in general.
You can tell by talking to him he cares about the people around him—his daughter, most of all.
He mentioned more than once how proud he was of her for her roping and work on the ranch.
Cody and I back our horses into the box. I look over to make sure he’s set and ready, then take a deep breath, just like I do before I nod my head on a bull. I call for the steer.
Shit, I’m late.
Fuck it, I swing twice and reach, throwing the loop out over the steer. I catch both horns, pull my slack and turn the steer.
Cody, being the old pro he is, was not late. He has thrown his loop before I can even glance back. He dallies off and I turn to face, stopping the clock.
5.1 seconds.
No way.
Kacey must be fuming. I was late leaving the box, and we still beat them.
This is a great day.