28. A Woman Who Stuck Around
A Woman Who Stuck Around
Quinn
T he noise inside the convention center swelled around me as I fixed Thunderbolt’s mane for the hundredth time. My hand shook slightly as I smoothed down each synthetic strand, ensuring the perfect bounce for my upcoming run.
Why I thought doing this was a good idea was beyond me. I could have just continued to do my little videos and do the occasional workshop for kids.
“You’re going to give him a bald patch if you keep fussing.” A woman not much older than me in a sequined riding jacket stopped next to me. I was pretty sure her stick horse had real horsehair and hand-painted details on the stick.
“Just pre-competition jitters. It’s his first big event.” I wanted to add it was my first one not under duress or with liquid courage but stopped myself.
The woman nodded, understanding in her eyes. “This is my third, but this is the largest crowd yet, thanks to you.”
I glanced around the room filled with hobby horse enthusiasts of all ages. Children practiced jumps in the warm-up area while a group of college-aged women reviewed a complex dressage routine together. Someone nearby debated the finer points of stick horse gait transitions.
Not long ago, I would have found this entire scene ridiculous. Now, watching all the dedication and sheer grit of everyone, all I felt was impressed.
The individual dressage competition had finished an hour earlier, and while I hadn’t competed in it, I’d taken meticulous mental notes. The way the top performers moved fascinated me. Next time, I’d be entering that division too.
My insides twisted as the announcer called for intermediate jumpers to gather near the entry gate. While I would have preferred to remain novice, winners of any placement in that division had to move up.
“Number forty-two, you’re second in the lineup,” a volunteer with a clipboard informed me.
I nodded, suddenly unable to speak as my mouth went dry. Second. That meant almost no time to watch others and adjust my strategy.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the intermediate jumping division of the Western Regional Hobby Horse Invitational!”
My confidence plummeted as cheers erupted from at least a thousand people who had paid money to watch. I scanned the audience, looking for anyone making fun of what was about to transpire.
But then I spotted them.
In the third row of bleachers sat six familiar faces. My parents sat awkwardly but proudly in brand new western shirts. Beside them, April jumped up and down, her hair dyed a new shade of purple that matched her sparkly eyeshadow.
And next to them were my three cowboys. Reid sat slightly hunched, clearly uncomfortable with the crowd screaming around him. Kellan beamed with excitement, phone ready to document everything. Enzo tried to look casual, but I could see the intensity in his posture.
Something shifted inside me. These people—my people—had traveled all this way and were about to cheer for me as I pranced around on a stick horse. And not a single one of them thought it was stupid.
The volunteer called for the first competitor.
I bounced lightly on my toes, preparing my muscles for the upcoming jumps while keeping an eye on my cheering section. My mom caught my eye and gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Kellan waved frantically while Enzo nodded once, his secret signal that I had this.
Reid seemed to notice my nervousness from across the arena. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, making eye contact, then mimed taking a deep breath. I followed his lead, my nervous system instantly calming down.
“Next up, number forty-two, Quinn Porter!”
The noise was almost deafening as I tucked Thunderbolt between my legs and trotted into the arena. I prayed to the hobby horse gods that I didn’t faceplant and become a meme all over social media.
The course spread out in front of me. I took a breath, ran toward the first jump, and cleared it clean. Thunderbolt stayed tucked between my legs, my landing soft like we had practiced.
A wave of cheering hit me, louder than I expected.
I turned sharply and aimed for the next obstacle. One jump, then another. I stumbled a little on one landing but caught myself and kept going. My legs burned, but I didn’t stop.
The rest flew by in a mix of jumps, turns, and the sound of my own breathing. When I cleared the last jump and crossed the finish, the crowd erupted. People were on their feet, clapping and whistling, some even chanting my name.
I dismounted, and as I exited the arena, adrenaline pumping through my veins, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
The rest of my division took their turns, with some sticking their landings, others knocking rails or skipping jumps altogether. I stood off to the side with the others, trying to guess how my round stacked up.
After the final rider finished, we then had to wait for the other jumping divisions to compete before the awards were announced.
Sudden emotion swelled in my throat as the top three for the novice division were called. I hadn’t expected to feel this invested, yet here I was, blinking back tears.
I wiped my sweaty palms against my leggings and drew in a steadying breath as the announcer moved on to my division.
The rational part of my brain reminded me this was just a hobby horse competition, but something deeper understood what it represented: me stepping out and trying something new, something that made me happy regardless of how others viewed it.
No matter what the results were, I knew I’d given it my all.
When my name was called for third place, I excitedly mounted Thunderbolt and trotted back in, grinning as they pinned a ribbon to his reins.
Once the awards ceremony wrapped, I turned toward the stands only to be intercepted halfway across the floor. One second I was walking, the next I was surrounded by three smiling cowboys who apparently didn’t care we were still technically in public.
Kellan reached me first, lifting me off the ground with a whoop that echoed through the arena. I barely had time to protest before he spun me around.
Reid stood behind him, his usual calm replaced with an excited smile, and Enzo appeared at my side, hand steady on my back.
“Okay, okay,” I gasped. “Put me down before someone calls security.”
Kellan set me down reluctantly, but not before I caught a glimpse of April in the stands, phone out, clearly recording every second. My parents stood next to her, looking on with expressions mixed with pride and confusion.
Dinner with them tonight would be fun since I hadn’t exactly explained my new relationship to them.
Kellan threw his arm around my shoulder. “Better get used to it, hobby horse champion. This is just the beginning.”
And looking at their beaming faces, I knew he was right about far more than stick horses.
I peeled off my boots and dropped onto the edge of the bed, exhausted in the best possible way. My muscles ached, my stomach was still full from dinner, and the laughter from the restaurant echoed in my ears.
“I think my parents liked you guys.” I yanked off my socks and tossed them on top of my boots.
Across the room, Kellan shrugged out of his shirt with a cocky smirk. “It was my charm, wasn’t it?”
Enzo uncorked a bottle of champagne. “Your mom hugged me. Twice. I wasn’t prepared.”
Reid sprawled across the bed next to me, his long legs dangling off the edge. “Your dad kept calling me son.”
“I thought at first they didn’t get what was going on when Quinn said we were her boyfriends, but then he asked if we were treating his daughter right.” Kellan flopped next to Reid, their shoulders touching. “I wasn’t sure if he meant financially or... you know.”
I covered my face with my hands. “Please tell me he didn’t give you guys the talk about his little girl.”
“Not directly.” Enzo handed me a glass of champagne, then distributed the others. “But there were some pointed questions about our intentions when you went to the bathroom with April.”
I sat on the edge of the mattress, suddenly aware of how normal the four of us together felt. “April wanted to make sure I was okay.”
Reid sat up. “And were you? Okay?”
I took a moment to really look at them. Kellan with his easy smile that hid depths I was still discovering. Enzo with his quiet strength and unexpected tenderness. Reid with his intuitive understanding that made me feel seen in ways I never had before.
“I was more than okay.” I took a sip of champagne. “For the first time, I wasn’t embarrassed or making excuses for my choices. I’m… happy.”
Reid’s eyes met mine over the rim of his glass. “We’re proud of you.”
My chest filled with something heavy and beautiful all at once. “Sometimes I still expect to wake up back in my apartment, with a broken heart and wondering where my life went wrong.”
“Seems like you ended up exactly where you were supposed to.” Kellan’s expression softened.
Enzo took my glass and set it on the nightstand. “When you landed that final jump today, the look on your face...” He shook his head, words failing him for once.
“Pure joy,” Reid finished for him. “Life has a way of giving us exactly what we need, even when it looks nothing like what we thought we wanted.”
We fell into an easy silence, limbs tangled together on the hotel bed.
Tomorrow we’d drive back to the ranch. Back to the animals and the lessons and the endless work that somehow didn’t feel like work anymore.
But tonight, surrounded by the men who had shown me what love could be when it wasn’t constrained, I closed my eyes and let myself feel completely, entirely found.
No longer lost.
No longer broken.
No longer alone.
I was Quinn Porter, a woman who’d stuck around and found her heart’s home in the most unexpected of places.