Chapter 6
If I Was a Cowboy - Miranda Lambert
Kinsley
G ambler was on edge. I sat hard in the saddle, gripping the reins until my knuckles turned white. I tried to walk him to the arena for our run, but he was bouncing around, pleading to be let loose. As we neared the arena, his agitation worsened.
A cowboy strode over and grabbed a rein, helping me steady him.
“Hey, Rhett,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“Kinsley.” Rhett tipped his hat, but his focus never left Gambler.
“What brings you here?” My left leg pressed against Gambler to prevent him from running Rhett over.
“Just helping out,” he said, his voice steady.
“He didn’t send you, did he?” A hint of suspicion entered my voice.
“I can’t say I know what you’re talking about,” Rhett replied, but I caught a faint smile under his cowboy hat.
“Then I guess I owe you one, handsome.” I winked at him as he guided us to the starting position.
“You sure about this?” He looked from Gambler to the arena.
“As sure as I’ll ever be.” I forced a confident smile onto my face despite the nerves twisting my stomach into knots.
I was never nervous before a ride. With Cher, I always knew what to expect.
We took our place in the long chute that led to the arena. I heard the announcer call my name over the booming loudspeaker, the sound echoing through the packed venue. I nodded to Rhett, signaling for him to release his grip on Gambler’s bridle.
With the slightest nudge of my boot, Gambler sprang into motion, his powerful muscles propelling us towards the first barrel with a burst of speed that took my breath away. The wind whipped through my hair, and the adrenaline pumped through my veins as we raced across the arena. As we approached the barrel, I realized Gambler was shooting past it, losing those precious milliseconds that could make all the difference between victory and defeat in barrel racing.
“Damn it,” I cursed under my breath, quickly correcting our path with a squeeze of my inside leg but slowing in the process.
Gambler responded, running to and pivoting around the second barrel with agility and precision. We flew towards the third barrel, determination burning in both of us to make up for lost time. Gambler’s muscles strained beneath me as he gave it his all, but it would not be enough. As we crossed the finish line, I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in my bones that our time was too slow.
A wave of disappointment and frustration replaced the rush of the ride. We could do better than this, and the thought of letting down my family, especially my dad, was almost too much to bear. I pictured the inevitable photos that would surface later—my scowling face broadcast across rodeo news sites and social media. The frustration threatened to boil over, but I fought to compose myself as we made our way out of the arena, not wanting to show even a hint of weakness in front of the crowd. I could feel all the critical eyes on me and hear the whispers.
There would be plenty of time later to analyse what had gone wrong and how I could improve for the next competition. For now, I had to hold my head high despite the bitter taste of failure on my tongue.
I pulled Gambler up as I checked our time. It was worse than I’d thought.
“It’s the first run. You’ll do better tomorrow.” Rhett came up beside me and took Gambler’s reins as I dismounted.
“I lost it from the start,” I admitted, deflated.
“Yep,” he agreed, his honesty stinging a bit.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I half-joked. I should have focused on Gambler instead of flirting, even if it was in fun.
“He’s new to you. You both need to learn each other’s ways. You weren’t ready for that, but keep at it, and you’ll get there,” Rhett advised, his voice firm but encouraging.
He was right. With Cherokee, I anticipated her every move, and she read me just as well. I’d been na?ve to think Gambler and I would have that same connection so soon.
Rhett walked with me to cool Gambler down. I opened my mouth to speak but shut it before the words came out.
“Go ahead and ask.” Rhett’s voice was gentle.
“How’s Wyatt really doing?” I asked, grateful for the opening.
“He’s okay, but Drifter’s slowing down, and he doesn’t want to face it.”
“Do you think Drifter needs to retire?”
“I do,” he confirmed my fears.
Wyatt would be devastated. That horse was his world. He needed him.
“Wyatt thinks winning again will solve all his problems, but not on that horse.”
“So, what’s next?”
“He won’t let anyone help,” Rhett said, echoing the frustration I’d felt countless times. Wyatt had refused sponsorship from my family, which would’ve covered his expenses.
Stubborn man .
Maisey rode up on her palomino mare, Lexie. “Tough ride,” she said to me, then turned to Rhett with a rosy blush to her pale cheeks. “Hey, Rhett.”
He tipped his hat to her, and her flush deepened.
“I’ll beat you tomorrow, though,” I teased her. She would beat my time today easily.
“We’ll see,” Maisey replied, her confidence shining through. “I’m aiming to win a new saddle. Coming to watch?”
“Of course.” I smiled. “Rhett?”
“Yeah, I’ll come,” he agreed.
“Great! Umm, I better get going,” Maisey said, a hint of nervousness in her voice as she turned Lexie towards the arena.
I chuckled. “You’re quite the heartthrob, Rhett.”
“I am not,” he protested, his cheeks tinting with a blush.
“So modest. It’s adorable.” I nudged him playfully.
“Stop.” He laughed, his rare smile breaking through.
We watched the rest of the barrel racing together, Gambler now calmly standing at my side. Maisey was up next, and she flew through the pattern, setting a new fastest time.
“Wow,” Rhett exclaimed. “That was impressive.”
“Yeah, she’s going to be hard to beat this year,” I admitted with a twinge of jealousy. I was proud of Maisey, but I wanted to be the one impressing everyone. “Guess I have some catching up to do.” I chewed the inside of my cheek.
As I led Gambler back to the stables, doubt crept in.
Had I rushed him into competition too soon? We weren’t ready—that much was clear from our disastrous run. But I couldn’t let one poor performance shake my confidence. We needed more time to get in sync, to learn each other’s rhythms and cues.
I brushed Gambler down, my hands moving mechanically as my mind raced.
Maybe I should have stuck with Cherokee for this rodeo. She was reliable. We had a connection that came from years of working together. But Gambler... He was something special. I felt it in the way he moved; the power coiled in his muscles. We would figure out how to harness it.
“You’ll do better next time,” I murmured to him, running my hand along his neck.
He snorted as if in agreement. I smiled despite myself. We were a team now, for better or worse.
I thought back to what Rhett had said about Wyatt and Drifter. The idea of Wyatt losing his beloved horse made my heart ache in a way I didn’t want to examine too closely. But I couldn’t dwell on that now. I had my own challenges to focus on.
As I finished up with Gambler and headed back to my trailer, I pushed away the lingering doubts. So what if we’d had a rough start? Every partnership had its growing pains. We’d do better next time; I was sure of it. And if not, we’d keep trying until we got it right. I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, and Gambler was worth the effort.
I climbed into my trailer, the exhaustion of the day catching up with me. Tomorrow was a new day, a new chance to prove ourselves. And we’d take it, one ride at a time.