Chapter 7
Over You - Miranda Lambert
Wyatt
N o time .
The steer came out of the chute straight. Finn roped the horns beautifully and turned him just right, but I wasn’t where I was supposed to be and I missed the hind feet. I was a second too late, but in this sport, every second mattered.
“And that is no time for Finn Winter and Wyatt Collins. Tough start for a usually consistent team,” the announcer said over the loudspeaker.
Finn didn’t look at me as we rode our horses out of the arena. I saw the disappointment on his face.
“I’m sorry. That was all on me. I’m not sure what—”
“It’s fine,” he said. “It happens.”
I hated letting him down, especially since this was his last season on the circuit. Finn had been talking about retiring, but he wanted to go out on a high note.
As we dismounted, frustration clouded his eyes.
“Hey, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what happened, I—"
“Wyatt, I told you it’s fine,” Finn cut me off, his voice terse. “It’s not the end of the world. We’ve had bad runs before.”
I nodded, knowing he was right, but the guilt still weighed on me. Finn had been my best friend since we were kids rodeoing together. I couldn’t stand the thought of letting him down, especially with his retirement looming. Or, our retirement, I should say…
“What the hell was that, Collins?” Travis Andersen, a long-time rival and not someone I wanted to see, strolled towards us with a couple of his buddies, smirking.
Ignoring him, we dismounted, and I hooked the stirrup around the horn to loosen the cinch.
“I knew your career was going down the drain, but after that performance, I think you’re officially in the shitter.”
My shoulders tensed, and I pulled them back. Finn caught my eye over the horses and gave a slight shake of his head.
“Word is Kinsley Jackson is done with you too. Can’t say I blame her. Maybe she’s ready to trade up for a winner.”
“Shut up, Travis,” I growled, my patience wearing thin.
But Travis was just getting started. “Or maybe it’s not Kinsley. Maybe you’re the one who can’t keep up with her. I hear she’s quite the handful in and out of the arena, if you know what I mean.”
My blood boiled at his insinuation. “Watch your mouth, Andersen.”
“Or what, Collins? You gonna miss me like you missed that steer?” Travis laughed, his buddies joining in. “Face it, you’re washed up. Finished. It’s only a matter of time before everyone else sees it too.”
I wasn’t a very aggressive guy, but it’d been one thing after another and I was ready to let something give. I turned to Travis, my fists balled up and ready.
Finn raced around the horses and put a hand to my chest, pushing me back. “Calm down, Wyatt.”
Travis and his friends laughed.
“You wanna fight, Collins? I’m ready. After I leave you in the dirt, maybe I’ll take a crack at that little barrel racer of yours and see what all the fuss is about.”
“Dream on, Andersen.” Her voice cut through me.
Of course, she had to show up at that moment. Kinsley walked over with Maisey, Rhett, and Grady.
“I’m not looking for a date, and if I were, I wouldn’t be looking in your direction.” She stood beside me, and her hand slid around my forearm. Her touch was both calming and igniting at the same time. She slipped her hand into mine.
Travis’s gaze dipped to where our hands held. “Unbelievable.” Travis shook his head. “You’re going to regret hitching your cart to that loser one day, Kinsley.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She squeezed my hand. Her skin was hot on mine, like it was about to catch fire, but I hung on and fixed Travis with a cool stare.
Travis and his friends left.
I ripped my hand from Kinsley’s. I fought the urge to look down, sure I would see it scalded. “I didn’t ask for your help, Kinsley.”
“Of course not,” she said dryly. “You would never ask for help. And God forbid somebody tries.”
I clenched my jaw, the muscles tightening in my neck. “I don’t need it.” I took a step back.
Kinsley matched my movement and closed the distance between us again. “You do! You need help! Your horse does!” She gestured at Drifter.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Can’t you feel him hesitate, coming out of the box? He can’t get himself moving quickly enough anymore. That’s why you missed today.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, really? Ask your friends. Go ahead.” She stepped back and held up her hands, gesturing to the surrounding group.
I glanced around at the guys, but they were all facing the ground, not saying a word.
“C’mon, guys, tell her she’s wrong. Drifter is fine. It was an off day.”
“I’m sorry, man.” Finn stepped towards me.
I held up a hand, stopping him.
“I wanted to—”
“Don’t.” I looked over at Drifter. Kinsley was at his head, rubbing her hand over his face, and he was trying to get in her pocket where he knew she always kept some horse treats. Traitor horse.
I studied him. He was in good shape, had good weight, and was well-muscled. Had I hurt him? Was I hurting him? I replayed our rides in my head, searching for clues.
“He’s getting older, Wyatt,” Kinsley said quietly. “It’s some old-timer stiffness. You have done nothing wrong.” She knew me too well. Her gaze was on me, tears glistening in her eyes.
We stayed like that for a few long moments, Drifter grazing beside us. We didn’t even notice that everyone else had walked away.
I didn’t know what to say, so we stood there awkwardly, watching Drifter nibble at the grass. The sun beat down on the back of my neck, beads of sweat trickling beneath the collar of my shirt.
I could feel Kinsley’s eyes on me, studying my face and searching for a reaction. My throat tightened; a lump that made it hard to swallow forming. I clenched my jaw, the muscles twitching beneath my skin as I fought to keep my emotions in check.
Kinsley stood perfectly still, her posture tense and guarded as if she was afraid one wrong move might shatter the fragile truce between us. The only sounds were the rodeo crowd’s distant chatter and Drifter’s content munching. He was oblivious to the tension crackling in the air.
“I should get him put away.” I gave Drifter’s reins a little tug, getting his attention away from the food, and he reluctantly followed me.
Kinsley fell into step beside us, her arm brushing against mine with each stride, sending sparks skittering across my skin.
“If you want to get the vet to… I mean, I could—”
Whatever she was going to offer, I didn’t want to hear it.
I didn’t want her rescuing me, so I interrupted her. “I’ll figure it out,” I said, my voice firm.
Kinsley’s blue eyes searched my face, protest forming on her lips. She wanted to push me, convince me to accept her offer of help, but something in my expression must have stopped her. I saw the frustration and concern warring in her gaze, the way her brow furrowed as if she was physically biting back the words threatening to spill out. Pressing her mouth into a thin line, she swallowed back the argument I knew was on the tip of her tongue.
I felt a pang of guilt at shutting her down, but I refused to back down. This was my problem to handle, my mess to clean up. I would figure this out on my own, even as a small voice in the back of my mind wondered if I was making a mistake.
Kinsley’s eyes searched my face a moment longer, likely looking for a crack in my resolve, but I kept my expression carefully neutral, and she gave a small nod of acceptance. Disappointment flickered across her face—there one moment and gone the next, replaced by a mask of composure.
“Right, okay.” She moved to leave.
Suddenly, I couldn’t stand the thought of her walking away. “How was your ride today?” I blurted, stopping her in her tracks.
She turned back to me, then rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ugh, a total disaster. Gambler and I are still trying to get on the same page.”
I couldn’t help the smirk that played across my lips at her exasperated tone. “The great Kinsley Jackson, struggling to handle a horse?”
“Oh, can it, Collins,” she fired back, but there was no real venom behind her words. In fact, her bright eyes sparkled with amusement at our familiar back-and-forth. “Says the cowboy who couldn’t even stay on the mechanical bull at Rhett’s birthday party last year.”
“Hey now, that bull was rigged!” I protested with a laugh. “Besides, I seem to recall you couldn’t stop staring at this cowboy’s ... skills ... that night.”
The words hung between us, reigniting the lingering sparks of heated awareness that still crackled in the air whenever we got too close.
Kinsley’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away and held my gaze boldly. “Well, you put on quite the show, cowboy.” Her tone took on a sultry lilt. “As I recall, you rode me pretty hard later that night too.”
It was my turn to feel the warmth of a blush creeping up my neck at her brazenly flirtatious words. Kinsley had never been shy. She said things that could bring me to my knees in an instant.
“Is that so?” I replied roughly, unable to resist playing along. “The way I remember it, you’re the one who couldn’t get enough—"
“Okay, okay!” Kinsley laughed as she held up her hands in surrender. “Let’s just agree that we were both pretty ... insatiable back in the day.”
The words “back in the day” caused a pang in my chest—a reminder of everything that had gone wrong between us despite our intense physical connection. As easily as we fell into this teasing affection, we always seemed to find our way to the same stumbling blocks that made our relationship crumble in the long run.
Some of that must’ve shown on my face because Kinsley’s expression sobered, her smile slipping. We walked a few paces in tense silence before she finally spoke again. “You know, I missed this.”
When I shot her a quizzical look, she waved a hand between us.
“The talking, joking, driving each other crazy...” A wistful smile played across her lips. “We were pretty good at that, weren’t we?”
“Among other things,” I agreed softly.
There had been times when Kinsley and just ... fit. When our combative energies aligned into something electric and intoxicating. Until real life got in the way, of course. Our dreams, our ambitions, our vastly different upbringings—they all eventually wedged an impassable divide between us, no matter how strong the physical connection was.
Kinsley’s smiled turned melancholic. “Yeah, well, I guess we were good at some things but not so much at making it last, huh?”
The words struck me like a slap, not because they were cruel but because they rang so utterly true. Despite the spark that still burned between us, despite the comfort her presence brought me, Kinsley and I were a lighted match in a drought-stricken field. Eventually, we would burn everything in sight.
“I guess not,” I agreed. The rueful moment between us shattered, bringing us crashing back to reality. “Which is why we’re better off staying away.”
Kinsley’s shoulders slumped, but she still mustered up a tight smile and gave a small nod of acceptance. “Right. We just— We don’t work.”
“No, we don’t,” I said, more to convince myself than anything because, somewhere deep down, a nagging part of me wondered if that was really true. If Kinsley and I were just too stubborn to figure this out and make it last. Maybe if we just...
I shoved that thought aside, tucking it into a box on a shelf in my mind to let it gather dust. What-ifs and lingering thoughts wouldn’t do either of us any favours. Kinsley and I had tried and failed. It was well past time we accepted that reality and moved on from the idea of there being an “us”.
Still, I couldn’t stop my gaze from dropping to her mouth one last time, remembering how her lips felt against mine and how her body felt pressed against me. With a silent curse, I gave myself a mental shake.
Pulling away was the right call, no matter how my body and heart might protest. Kinsley and I simply didn’t work as a couple—at least, not in any lasting, permanent way. It was time I accepted that bitter truth once and for all.
“I got to get this guy put away for the night.” I gestured to Drifter patiently standing at my side.
Kinsley nodded slowly, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Okay, well, I should get going anyway. I’ll see you around, Wyatt.” She hurried off before I could say anything else.
“Bye, Kinsley,” I said, even though she was already out of earshot.
I got Drifter back to his stall and untacked him. I ran my hands slowly over each of his legs, checking for heat or swelling, but he felt good. “What are we going to do, old man?”
His ear flicked my way, and he eyed me as if to say, Who are you calling an old man?
I had no idea what I was going to do. Should I even ride him tomorrow and finish up this rodeo? Then what?
Damn, my life was a mess.
I filled Drifter’s water bucket and tossed him hay and a scoop of grain. I wanted a bed to hide in until all my problems went away, but I would settle for my tent and a sleeping bag that night. When I woke up tomorrow, all my problems would still be there.